The Jewel of Darkness
by KevinVoigt
Summary: COMPLETE Sequel to 'Amulet of Stone' A new darkness has been unleashed on the world and Harry doesn't know how to stop it or even what it truly is. They're only clues come from the strange string of circumstances that led to its escape.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

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**CHAPTER 1**

**An Unpaid Debt**

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Harry found himself surrounded by darkness. A faint rumbling filled his ears and a hot, dry breeze blew across his skin. For a moment, he wondered just where he was. It felt quite familiar, yet strange and foreign. Suddenly, a voice cried out in urgent rage: 

"Harry! There is no time!"

He knew the voice. Despite the darkness, he felt as though he could see it's source: a turbulent cloud of red smoke somewhere behind him. Harry felt himself moving backwards, though he couldn't tell just where he was headed. He just knew he needed to go in that direction.

The voice called out again, but it was harder to hear this time. It was being drowned by a great swell of sound like the growling of some horrible beast. He looked around frantically. He knew what it was. He remembered. Ahead of him he began to see the faint shape of an arch, glowing a sickly green through the darkness. The memories flooded back to him with almost painful detail.

_He had to escape. He had to find Ginny. He had to keep her safe._

It felt like he was reading the thoughts from a book, and yet he knew they were his own. He felt detached, unable to do much more than wait and feel himself moving away from an invisible terror he didn't want to see or remember. Slowly, the darkness faded and the world began to slip back into focus around him. With unsettling clarity, he looked around and found himself in the Veil Room again. The arch still stood on its platform. One side was cracked severely, but it was otherwise intact.

Grigore Tarus was standing nearby and watching him with anger and fear. "What are you doing, Harry?" he called out threateningly. "You're not thinking. You know this has to be done."

"_No!_" Harry shouted. "It's a trick. You're afraid of me. You know that I will stop you." He stared at Grigore and saw the answer in his old mentor's face.

"You do have the power to stop this, Harry," Grigore replied, "but I am not the one who you must stop. This is your duty, Harry. In one instant— in a single act— you can prevent centuries of war and death. Now is not the time to be selfish. Do this for your friends. If you do not, they will surely die."

"You stay away from them!" Harry cried. He looked at Grigore and swore he could see the changes already. How had he missed them earlier? He looked both older and younger at the same time. He was corrupt and evil. There was a shadow on his heart and it had twisted him. Harry didn't understand what it was, but he knew it had to be stopped.

"Come now, Harry. I won't ask you again." Harry stared in outrage as Grigore pulled his wand and raised it against Harry.

In a flash, Harry drew his own wand and shot a quick hex at Grigore. He fired one back, but Harry was too quick. The spell missed him by feet while Harry's hit it's mark. Grigore was tossed backward as dark rope like shapes wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

"_Treachery!_" he shouted as Harry bounded up the stairs. "Josef! Stop him!"

Moments before he reached the top of the staircase, the heavy doors in front of him swung open and Josef strode forward with his wand in his hand. With a surge of anger at the betrayal of someone he had thought of as a friend, Harry let out an enraged shout as he drove himself up the last few steps. Josef hadn't been prepared for such a sudden onslaught, and Harry rammed into him with surprising force.

Harry spun away from the impact and through the door, stumbling a few steps before regaining his balance and sprinting across the small antechamber. Red light flared behind him, displaying his shadow against the floor of the inclined path.

Josef and Grigore had called for help. He wouldn't have much time. He was in the bowels of the castle. If the other members got the warning and began hunting him, he'd never make it out. He'd taught too many of them all the tricks he'd have used to save himself. He scolded himself for trusting them all so quickly. He hadn't even thought about what he was doing. During all the midnight training he'd not only taught them how to evade other wizards but how to hunt him if he should ever need to hide from them.

He needed to do something abnormal, something they would never expect. Few of them knew of him beyond the somewhat impersonal training sessions. They would never be able to anticipate his moves. They would simply assume he would follow the rules he'd taught them. What he needed to do was break a few of those. The first one would be pretty easy.

He stopped where he was and quickly turned around, sprinting back toward the Veil Chamber. He pointed his wand at himself and cast a hasty Disillusionment Charm. He came to the very last junction at the top of the stairs that would take him back down to the chambers he'd just left. Just as he expected, he found a number of unlit recesses in the areas carved out to provide light. None of the lamps were lit and the small alcoves were dark and out of the way. He carefully slipped behind the metal lamps and crouched down in the darkness.

Seconds later, he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. With his wand in hand and his body coiled and ready to strike, he watched them stride past him without paying any attention to their surroundings. The turned and started down the steps but paused as another voice echoed up the staircase.

"What are you lot doing here?" Josef nearly scolded them.

"There was an alarm. We were told Grigore was down—"

"He was, but he's not anymore," said Josef. Harry could hear the strain in his voice. Something wasn't going as planned. "How many others are coming?"

"I don't know. Quite a few I expect. What's happened? Why isn't Harry with you?"

Josef's answer came in a flat voice: "I can only guess that he thinks it will be easier escape if I can't find him." Another set of footsteps echoed down one of the nearby corridors. Before they even stopped Josef was calling out to them.

"Stop, all of you!" he shouted. "Grigore is climbing the staircase to his study. I need two of you to see that a pair members are waiting for him when he gets there, four if possible. I don't care if you do it, just get the fastest people there as quickly as you can. The other two should send word that the Castle is to be shut tight. Lock the gates to the lower corridors, the courtyard gates and the Castle gates themselves. The moment that is done, go to the Gatehouse and tell them to lock every door they've got." As soon as he stopped giving orders, Harry heard footsteps moving away from him quickly.

"As for you two—" continued Josef, obviously talking to the first pair of members to arrive, "—go find Dragomir and Andros. Tell them to meet me by the door to the potion storeroom. I urgently need to speak with them. "

"We were told to guard these corridors," one of them replied. "We can't leave our post."

"You can and you will. The lowest levels of the Castle are to be emptied. All guards —every last one— is needed. I want every exit guarded by at least four members. _No one_ is to leave the Castle."

Another pair of footsteps echoed down the corridor, headed away from Harry at a quick pace. He listened as closely as he could to the sounds, but it was impossible to tell just how many wizards had made them. At least two, for certain, but he didn't need to hear their footsteps to guess that. The question was: Where was Josef?

Harry remained crouched in the alcove weighing his options. How long could he wait? What was Josef doing? Why had he sent away all of the guards? As he waited for some sign that he was safe, his mind starting trying to work out a plan. Without any guards in the lowest levels, he'd be able to move around at will. Of course, there were no exits in the lowest levels, and though he might be able to fight his way past four of his friends, he would never make it to the Gatehouse without the rest of the Brotherhood on his heels. Perhaps he could simply hole up in some obscure hiding place and wait. Even if they were all searching for him, he might have a better chance of slipping out of the Castle.

"Show yourself, Harry!"

Harry felt himself jump at the sound of Josef's voice. It was closer than he would have liked, though he still could not see him.

"I don't know what happened between you and Grigore," he continued. "Whatever it was, you are not making this any easier on yourself. I have looked into the Veil, too. I don't know what you saw, but you cannot let it cloud your judgment. If you run now, the situation will only get worse. Will you come out?"

Harry felt a peculiar sensation. He felt the same betrayal, suspicion, and anger that he remembered feeling, but now it was mixed with new emotions. _He was trying to help,_ proclaimed a voice in the back of his mind. _Josef had always been trying to help him._

"It doesn't have to be this way, Harry!" Josef called out. "I don't understand what it means, either. Please, come out and we will search for answers together."

From an oddly detached perspective, Harry felt the conflict within himself. He knew now what he should have done. He should have trusted Josef. Of course, at the time it felt as though everyone had betrayed him. Instead of stepping out into the corridor and trusting his friend, he sat back and brooded in the shadows.

"Harry?" he called out again. "If you're still here, I just want you to understand that it had to be done. I wasn't trying to betray you. I was trying to help you." Harry didn't respond. After another minute or more, soft footsteps announced Josef's departure. Harry waited another minute before slowly creeping out of his hiding place.

The whole area was completely silent. When Josef left, he had left a number of lamps lit, suggesting that he hadn't completely believed that Harry had truly left. He had some light, he didn't have much else to work with. Where was he supposed to go? Even after three months in the Castle, he still didn't know all the corridors. The Brotherhood was undoubtedly already guarding exits he didn't even know about. Once Dragomir was helping them, there would be no hope of escape. Only the very oldest members the Castle as well as he did. A thought suddenly struck Harry and he froze in place. Josef's words echoed in his mind:

_...find Dragomir and Andros. Tell them to meet me outside the potion storeroom. If there are any other ways out, Dragomir will know them._

Though Harry barely knew his way around the lower parts of the Castle, he'd been to the potion storeroom many times. Repeated injuries during training meant repeated trips to collect the ingredients needed for salves and healing potions. He knew the storeroom well. He also knew that there was more than one way to get into it.

Walking quietly along the walls of the deserted corridors, he cautiously made his way up to parts of the Castle that were more familiar to him. He still hadn't seen any other Brotherhood members. Whether that had anything to do with Josef or Grigore was difficult to say. He was walking in parts of the Castle that few members went even when they weren't searching for traitors.

Even calling the place he was walking a castle seemed inappropriate. The castle structure itself was low and squat even compared to Hogwarts. Though impressive from a distance, its size was easily dwarfed by the enormous collection of underground halls, corridors, and darkened passageways. There was no telling just how far beneath the entrance level he currently was. Perhaps no one even knew. Only the Brotherhood really knew of the existence of the lower levels. The rest of the world only saw the large fortress on the surface.

Perhaps that was its true purpose. It was little more than a mask meant to hide a more sinister truth. Like the cloaks the Brotherhood wore, it put a familiar veneer over something evil, giving the people who saw it every day no reason to look any deeper.

How long had it been there? The Castle itself was easily older than Hogwarts, and yet the corridors he was currently walking through were obviously much older. It was almost more accurate to call them tunnels, though that might be an insult to the artisans who created them.

There were no lamps or torches and Harry was forced to use his wand to see the path ahead of him. As he ascended a set of spiral staircases, he began to worry about how long it was taking. He knew he had to be in the right area, but the complete lack of any signs of human habitation made him second guess his instincts. At the very top of the stairs, he came to a heavy wooden door. Faint orange light flickered from the crack between it and the stone floor. With a simple charm and a firm shove, he pushed it open. A second later, he leaped out into the corridor on the other side, wand ready for attack.

The corridor was just as empty as all the others. This was a relief to Harry, but it wasn't nearly as encouraging as the fact that he recognized his surroundings. He was standing in a cavernous passageway under the Castle that passed from one end to the other with just a few large access tunnels cut to the surface. Josef said it had been built to allow for easy movement of food and supplies through the enormous fortress. Though they no longer stored any food that deep in the Castle, it still connected to many of the storerooms. Most importantly, it was connected to the cellar of the potions storeroom where Josef was headed.

Harry moved quickly, searching for the large arch Josef had shown him weeks earlier. He couldn't read any of the writing, but it was easy enough to remember what the word looked like. After only a minute of searching, he found what he was looking for. He quietly opened the door and slipped into the room.

The cellar was completely dark. Harry held up his wand, letting it glow as only bright enough to keep him from injuring himself as he wove between old broken crates and the odd rusted cauldron. Finally, he spotted what he was looking for: a set of notches carved into the stone wall itself. It acted as a permanent ladder to the storeroom above.

At the top of the ladder was a heavy wooden trapdoor. In the past it had been used to haul heavy crates from the cellar into the storeroom. As far as Harry knew, it hadn't been used in years. There was no telling just how much noise it would make it if was opened —or if it would open at all. After a moment of thought, Harry scolded himself for making things harder than they were. He pointed his wand at the door and spoke in a quiet voice:

"_Evanesco!_"

With a puff of dust and sand, the door disappeared, letting faint light filter down into the cellar. He climbed up the wall and pulled himself up into the storeroom. As quickly as he could, he walked to the door and pressed his ear against it, hoping he wasn't too late.

He could hear distant rumbles and other indistinct noises. How long had it taken him to get there? Had Josef already come and gone? As he stood waiting, he heard another noise. It was faint and somewhat rhythmic. He listened closely and it stopped, then started again, getting slightly louder. There was a slight scuffling noise, then it repeated.

Someone was pacing outside the door.

Was it Josef? Harry gripped his wand tighter. There was no way to tell for certain. How long could he wait? As the person turned and began traveling back toward the door, Harry decided that there was nothing much to lose. The echoes he heard through the door made it clear: The Brotherhood was moving faster than he was. He needed some advantage. The chance to overhear Josef would give him that. If he was too late, then he would just have to hide out in the tunnels and wait for a better time.

"What are you doing here?" called out a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

"My business is my own, Tiberiu," replied Josef. Harry let out a relieved sigh. Josef was still waiting as well.

"You should be looking for Harry," the other voice responded gruffly. "Grigore said he needed to be found as soon as possible."

"And what is it that you think I am doing?"

"Minding your business, it would seem. Though, unless you think Harry has locked himself in the potion storeroom, I would guess that your business doesn't involve doing as Grigore told us."

"And what would _you_ have us do, Tiberiu?" Josef snapped. "Run about the corridors, hexing anything that moves? We'd end up creating so much havoc that a troop of trolls would be able to escape. I don't care what Grigore says. Something happened down there. I think Harry angered him in a way that few others have. I don't think he is acting rationally. I know Harry. He's rash and impatient. If we watch all exits and simply wait, he will come to us."

"Grigore will hear of this."

"Yes, and when he calms down, he will agree with me. If you truly wish to help, go to the Gatehouse. Even if Harry escapes the Castle, all routes out of the city pass through those gates."

Tiberiu answered with a growl: "Very well."

Harry heard footsteps walking away, but Josef's voice called out over them: "Where are Dragomir and Andros? If you see them, send them here. Nothing is more important."

"They are on their way," Tiberiu replied. "They were held up by a foolish desire to do as Grigore told them."

The two wizards said nothing more, and for another minute or two Harry was forced to wait and listen only to the tense pacing on the other side of the door. Finally he heard a voice echo down the corridor outside the storeroom.

"Good evening."

"It would have been better if you two had arrived earlier."

"Perhaps you didn't notice, but something terribly interesting is happening, Josef," Dragomir said in a hushed voice.

"I'm aware," answered Josef. "I need your help."

"We've already got other orders."

"Ignore them," Josef replied stiffly. "Find Harry. Find him and bring him to me."

"To you? Grigore gave orders that we should bring Harry to him."

Josef lowered his voice to a whisper. "This is a Brotherhood matter and Grigore is not a member of the Brotherhood."

"Is that your ambition talking," Andros interrupted, "or you trying to imply that Grigore has done something wrong?"

"We've all done things that are wrong, Andros, and we've all made mistakes in tense situations —even Dragomir," Josef added. "I am only trying to make sure that Grigore's mistake doesn't cause any more damage than it must."

"And what mistake is that?"

"He underestimated Harry's will and let him escape. There's no telling where he is right now, but I'm certain he'll be looking for a way out."

"He won't be looking for long," said Dragomir. "All the exits are blocked. If he even approaches one of them, he'll be spotted. No matter how talented he is, he cannot stand against a dozen trained wizards."

"And there is no other way out of the Castle?" Josef asked. "No forgotten passageways he could use to slip away?"

"This place is terribly old, Josef. We've covered all of the exits Harry might possibly know about, but no one could ever be certain that they found them all. There is one perhaps, but I don't think anyone has ever used it. It has probably been sealed off."

"Where is it?" asked Josef.

"I think we found a hidden doorway just off the main Guards' Hall."

"And it leaves the Castle?"

Dragomir let out a skeptical grunt. "It leaves the hall. There's no telling just how far it goes after that. Maybe a few hundred feet. Maybe all the way to the Gatehouse, though I doubt that. It's more likely that it's been blocked by a cave in before it gets that far."

"That's where he'll go," Josef declared. "Gather a few wizards you know you can trust and meet me there. I have another errand, but I will be there shortly."

Harry listened closely as all three of them walked off at a brisk pace. He had what he'd come for. There was no other way out. It was risky, but no more than facing the rest of the Brotherhood. The biggest obstacle now was time. How long would it take Dragomir and Andros to gather the others and get there? What other errand did Josef have? In the end, it didn't matter. His goal was simple. He had to get to the Guards' Hall as quickly as he could. He would need time to find that doorway.

The Guards' Hall was one of the larger rooms in the Castle. At one point it had been used as a central place for guards to gather and collect everything they would need for their duties. There were quite a few large cabinets made to hold everything from bread to robes to collections of archaic weapons. It was two or three levels above him, but it wouldn't take all that long to get there. There wouldn't be much time to waste, though.

Slowly, Harry opened the door and checked the corridor on the other side. As he hoped, it was completely empty. He left the cramped room and starting making his way down the passageway as quickly and quietly as he could. There was a set of stairs nearby, but it was frequently used. He tried to think of any other route he might take, but every other option he came up with would take far too much time.

Gathering all his courage and ignoring everything Josef had taught him over the last three months, Harry urged himself forward. If he moved fast enough, perhaps it might not matter if he was spotted. If it came to that, he could barricade himself in the room and search for the exit. As he climbed the stairs, he heard his footsteps echoing ahead of him. He paused for a moment, imaging that he heard voices calling out. After a moment of waiting, he heard nothing more and pressed onward. The quicker he reached the top, the quieter he could travel. He crested the top and quickly dashed across the corridor to crouch against the far wall.

Hearing nothing, he stood and continued down the corridor. Rounding a corner, he froze suddenly. Standing at the far end of the corridor was a wizard in a grey cloak. He made no movement, but simply stood there with a statuesque stare. For a second, Harry wondered whether the wizard could actually see him. Slowly, he retreated, stepping around the corner he'd just turned.

"What is happening, Harry?" a voice asked from a frighteningly close distance.

Harry spun around violently. Standing only a few feet away from him was Stefan Buscan. He had his wand out and pointed at Harry. A number of possible reactions ran though his mind. Stefan was close enough that he might be able to grab his wand —as long as was able to dodge the first hex.

"Don't try anything, Harry," Stefan warned him. "I don't want to attack you. I really don't."

"Then just turn around and walk away," Harry replied. He heard the other wizard walking up behind him and finally come to a stop.

Stefan remained calm. "I can't do that. Grigore gave us orders."

"Grigore is using you," Harry whispered. "He's not even one of you," he added, remembering how Josef had used the same argument. "I don't even know what the Brotherhood is. It's certainly not what everyone told me it is. How many lives have you saved?" he heard himself ask. Stefan was a good man. He didn't like helping dark wizards any more than Harry did, and Harry knew that was his best chance. "We're supposed to be helping the world. That's what Grigore and Josef told me I'd be doing, but it seems like all we do is watch while the world gets worse."

"We're doing our _duty_," argued Stefan. "This is the way things must be done. This is our way."

Harry could see the conflict in his eyes. "It's your way. It's not mine. I have no desire to destroy the Brotherhood. I'm not trying to stop you. I want to help the world just as much as you do, but I can't do it here." His heart pounded with urgency to leave, but he stared into Stefan's eyes with all the sincerity he could muster. "I just want to leave. Nothing more." Slowly, Stefan's posture relaxed.

"You can't leave," he replied. "All the exits are watched."

"Not all of them. There is one off the Guards' Hall. A hidden one. Do you know of it?"

"Yes," he replied quietly, "but I would not trust it."

"Do you know exactly where it is? Is it still open?"

Ignoring a glare from his partner, Stefan stepped closer to Harry. "There is a fireplace carved into one of the long walls. There were rumors that it led to an emergency passage, but too many people know about it. If it led anywhere we'd be using it. Since we aren't I have to assume they have sealed it shut."

"I'll take my chances," Harry said as he attempted to step around the two wizards. To his relief, they stood where they were and made no attempt to stop him. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I've done nothing to earn your thanks, Harry," Stefan said. "I will not lie to the others. I will tell them I saw you. However, they are all guarding the upper Castle. I suspect you will have a few minutes before they find out about your intentions. Now, go quickly. Grigore is organizing patrols."

Without taking too much time to question his sudden luck, Harry turned and began walking away. As he made his way down the hall, he looked over his shoulder. The two wizards were talking to each other. There was no telling just what they were discussing, but they weren't coming after him either. After turning another corner, he broke into a run. If Grigore was sending out patrols, he had even less time.

He sprinted through the corridor and climbed the staircase without any thought of the noise he was making. He was close enough that it no longer mattered. After another few stretches of empty corridor he passed through a large arched doorway and into a long, cavernous hall. Long poles tipped with heavy, weathered blades hung nearby, blocked by a pair of tables with purple and grey cloaks. A number of doorways opened on either side of the room, leading off to various parts of the Castle. The open spots on the walls were filled with cabinets or shelves or other specialized cloaks hanging from hooks.

It was the Guards' Hall. At one point it had been the organizational center of the defense of the fortress. Now it was little more than a glorified closet where the everyday supplies of the patrols were picked up for their daily duties. A few large tables in the center of the room offered a place to sit and rest, while a small kitchen area at the far end provided the ability to make simple meals. The center of the kitchen was a large fireplace cut into the wall. Considering the size of the rest of the kitchen, it was curiously spacious. As Harry strode toward it, a voice boomed out behind him.

"Harry, _stop!_"

Harry ducked and dove behind a table, quickly spinning around and aiming his wand at the direction of the voice. Standing just inside one of the many doorways was Josef. He stepped calmly into the room with his wand at his side. Walking behind him were Dragomir and Andros, looking slightly more tense.

"Take a moment to think about this, Harry," he said in an even tone. "If you leave, you cannot come back."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the idea," replied Harry as he began inching toward the fireplace.

Josef walked forward, but kept his calm, non-threatening appearance. "No one has ever been allowed to leave the Brotherhood. We will be forced to hunt you down."

"I'll take my chances."

Josef's expression became more stern. Something was bothering him. He was getting impatient. "No, Harry. You need to stay. If you run, it will only get worse. You have to trust me."

"Trust you?" Harry heard himself bark with a short laugh. "How are you any better than Grigore? You'll just put yourself in his place."

"If that's what it takes," Josef replied flatly.

"I'll pass, thanks," Harry said with a sarcastic grin. He wasn't far from the opening to the fireplace. Stefan hadn't really said how to find the passage, but the alcove wasn't really large enough for too many possibilities.

"Harry, stop," Josef said in a softer voice. "You don't know what you're doing."

"No, but I know I'm not helping you." He took another step backward and heard the soft grinding of ash under his boot.

"You're not helping yourself or your friends, either," warned Josef. "The Brotherhood is coming. There is no escape. I am the only way out of this situation."

"I don't think so. If that were true, you wouldn't be trying to convince me. You taught me that, Josef. If you're in control of the situation, there is no need to negotiate. Negotiation is only worthwhile when you've lost the advantage."

"I'm trying to save your life!" Josef called out. Behind him, Dragomir and Andros were inconspicuously watching the other doorways. "You must be patient, Harry! Think about what you're doing. There is no safety at the end of that tunnel. It's not an escape. It only leads to even greater danger."

The sound of voices began filtering down the corridors and into the room. Josef's face fell and he turned quickly to look at one of the arches behind him. "There's no time, Harry. If they see you with your wand raised against me—"

Harry's wand wasn't. The instant Josef had looked away, he'd jumped fully into the fireplace and was now searching desperately for the passage Stefan had said he'd find there. Seconds of looking felt like hours. All of the walls were covered with black soot, making it difficult to see, but not so impossible that he wasn't certain of their existence. A pair of shafts split at the top of the large hollow and led off toward the surface, but both of them were too far to reach and too small to climb through even if he could.

"_Harry!_" Josef shouted angrily.

There was no time. Harry could hear other voices now. Dragomir and Andros were arguing with someone, but other wizards' voices rose over the noise calling for Harry and shouting orders from Grigore. Harry's mind raced. What was he supposed to do, now? It seemed there were no solutions. A sharp, hissing sound cut through the air, giving Harry just enough warning to leap aside before bright purple sparks exploded against one of the walls of the fireplace. Recovering quickly, Harry leaned out of the alcove just far enough to get a look at the group of wizards in the room.

There had to be eight or more of them, not including Josef. He was still at the front of the pack, but he looked more angry than Harry had ever seen him.

"_Stop this!_" he yelled in fury as a pair of wizards bounded past him taking aim at Harry with their wands.

Before they could get their spells off, Harry's wand flashed and a cloud of grey smoke burst in front of them. A pair of hexes shot through the haze a second later, but their aim was wild and neither posed any real threat. Josef began shouting something and Harry didn't wait to hear just which curse it would be. He threw himself against the wall which would give him the most shelter and waited for the inevitable.

Suddenly, the world around him slowed to a crawl. Something was wrong. There was no wall behind his left hand. Spinning around as quickly as he could, he reached for the side wall close to the very back of the fireplace. Instead of landing against blackened stone, it sank through the wall effortlessly. Without a moment of hesitation, Harry ducked through the illusionary wall. After no more than a few feet, he struck a real wall. He panicked for a moment before realizing that the narrow passage continued in a different direction. Hearing shouts coming from behind him, he pressed onward. Suddenly, he heard a sharp explosion followed by a deep rumbling as the sound of tumbling stone roared through the tunnel.

Harry began running into the blackness of the passage. He heard large chunks of rock falling down behind him as his hands passed over freshly cracked stone. He continued running until the sound died away, leaving him in a completely dark tunnel somewhere under a mountain of stone.

Harry lit his wand to get a better look at his situation. The tunnel was narrow, but the masonry of the walls was straight and precise. He continued onward for some distance before a horrible sight loomed ahead of him.

Another cave-in blocked the tunnel. Judging by the dust on the rock, this one was much older. Harry struggled with his panic for a few minutes, uncertain of just what he could do. In the end, there were only three options: try to clear the obstacle in front of him, go back to the other cave-in and hope the Brotherhood would try to clear it, or simply sit and do nothing. Considering that the last two options would almost certainly end with his untimely death, he decided to try the one which might give him a chance to continue living.

The stones blocking the tunnel were heavily enchanted, and it took him quite some time to find a spell which could be used to help move them, but after almost an hour of work, he succeeded in clearing a small hole at the very top of the tunnel. Though the jagged edges of other chunks of rock tore at him, he slipped through the claustrophobic opening and found himself on the other side. Shining the light from his wand down the tunnel, he could see it stretching off into the darkness.

Letting himself relax for a moment he turned his thought back to the pile of rock behind him. With a few choice spells he managed to block up the opening he'd crawled through. If any of the Brotherhood managed to follow him that far, it might buy him another hour or more. Pleased with his work, he stood up and turned to continue his journey.

"Hello again, Harry."

Harry froze in place and stared at the figure standing before him. It was Josef, and yet it couldn't be. Josef was on the other side. He hadn't been there. The memory was still clear in his mind. After closing off the tunnel, he'd walked off. An hour later, he'd found the old shaft leading to the abandoned shop. Josef hadn't been there, and yet, in his dream he was.

"What is this?" Harry asked. "You shouldn't be here..."

"I shouldn't be anywhere," Josef replied. "I should be dead."

"Why... are you here?"

"To tell you that I'm not angry with you," Josef replied. "You and I... we were almost brothers once. I never thought I could trust someone like I trusted you. I always hoped you would realize that. That's why I need you to know that I don't blame you for what you've done. You needed to keep her safe. I understand that. In fact, I'm proud of you."

"You— what?"

"Don't you see, Harry?" Josef said, pointing back where Harry had come from. "Back there, I did what needed to be done to keep you safe. You were right. Grigore would have killed you. The others would have done it for him. I turned my back on you because if I hadn't, they would have killed us both."

"I don't understand—"

"No, you do understand," Josef said. "You couldn't save me. You couldn't fight me —not like that. You had to see it for what it is, first. That is why you were doomed to fail." A smile spread across his face. "But you didn't fail, not completely. You saved Ginny. You saved your friends. You finally understand the sacrifice I made for you and you showed me by making one yourself."

Harry felt his throat tighten. "But I—"

"It's alright, Harry," Josef said with sympathy. He turned and began walking into the darkness. Harry wanted to follow, but he couldn't will his feet to move. Just before Josef disappeared completely, he stopped to look over his shoulder.

"Good luck, Harry."

"Josef!" Harry called out as he stumbled forward. There was no response. He called out again as he ran into the black tunnel. There was no sign of Josef, but as he ran, the tunnel began to get brighter. There was a soft golden glow which seemed to fill it, though Harry couldn't tell where it was coming from. He slowed down, but the light grew. Suddenly, he felt cold air against his skin.

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open and he felt the chilly air of his bedroom against his skin. The lamp on the other side of the bed was lit but Ginny wasn't there. A faint rustle of drapes caught his attention and he turned to look toward the window. 

Ginny was standing in her nightgown and staring out into the night. She had something in her hand, but Harry couldn't quite make it out.

"You were dreaming," she said clearly. "It was about Josef, wasn't it?"

Harry blinked. "How did—"

"You called out his name," she answered as she turned to face him. She was wearing the emerald necklace he'd bought her for Christmas. It sparkled and shimmered happily in the light of the lamp, but there was little happiness in her face. "What did you see?" she asked, though she didn't sound as though she thought she'd like what he was going to say.

"Just memories," he replied.

"Yeah," she said, "I have those dreams, too." As she walked closer to him, he recognized the object in her hand. It was the black stone amulet Justinian had given her last September. "Do you ever wonder—" she began, staring down at the amulet, "—do you think there was anything more we could have done to—"

"No," Harry said with absolute certainty. His voice took on a hollow tone as thoughts swirled in his head, crystallizing into realization.

"We couldn't have saved him. We couldn't have fought it. Even if we had tried, we would have failed. That's what the Seer at St. Mungo's told me. He said that I would try to stop it, and that I'd fail. And he was right."

Ginny stared at him for a moment. "We had to try."

"Yes," he agreed stiffly. Then, like a beam of sunlight through the clouds, the realization struck him. "We had to try and fail." He understood now. Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood up and walked over to the wardrobe where he kept his robes. He picked one of the heavier ones and tossed it onto the bed.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ginny asked. "Are you going somewhere?"

"We are," Harry answered. "I'll need your help." He tossed a set of robes at her. "We need to get Ron and Hermione. We should also find Lupin and Tonks. Maybe Simon as well, if he'll do it. Maybe a couple more if we can find them."

Ginny tossed her robes on the bed and glared at him. "What are you planning, Harry? Where are we going?"

"We're going to repay a friend, Ginny," Harry answered. "We're going to kill Josef."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I must apologize to everyone who was hoping for some sort of resolution to the end of 'Amulet of Stone'. If you've read enough of my stuff, you should have known the story would start this way. However, you did learn some valuable stuff and you got another glimpse of the more action-oriented style that should be the norm for this story.

I hope everyone enjoyed it.


	2. An Empty Victory

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

**An Empty Victory**

* * *

The familiar spires of Hogwarts castle jutted into the sky ahead of Harry and Ginny. There had been a time when the sight of the towers had been a comfort to him. Now, he seemed immune to it. His mind was focused on a completely different castle. 

Perhaps it was too late, but Harry was beginning to understand everything that Josef had tried to teach him. The two of them had frequently fought over how to accomplish the tasks Grigore had given them. Josef always complained that Harry never spent enough time looking at the situation. Harry said that Josef spent so much time thinking that they were constantly acting at the very last possible moment.

There wasn't much time left for Josef, if there was any at all, yet here he was, planning and gathering allies. If he ran off now, there was little chance of him succeeding, even with the extra time. What he needed was a plan and a number of wizards he could trust.

The plan was already forming in his head. If Josef had left there was little he could do until he showed up somewhere, however, an odd feeling during his dream made him certain that Josef was still there. If the thing from the Veil was with him, then there might night be much they could do, but he had to at least try.

The Seer's words made sense to him now. Josef was right. He couldn't have succeeded. He had been doomed to fail. Whatever it was, it had been waiting for Harry. It had an insurmountable advantage and could have escaped whenever it wanted. Instead, it waited patiently for Harry. It probably meant to kill him, and it would have if Harry hadn't gotten the warning from Dragomir.

He couldn't have stopped it, but he had to try, if only to spring the trap and put everyone on equal footing. This thing —whatever it really was— knew that Harry would come to Romania. It hadn't expected their escape and now it would be uncertain what Harry might do next. If they moved quickly and decisively, he and his friends could use that uncertainty to their advantage. Josef would be proud of him. Of course, if they succeeded, he would also be dead.

* * *

Ginny walked silently next to Harry as they steadily approached the main gate to Hogwarts. He was obviously thinking about something. He had been ever since he woke up just before sunrise that morning. She knew he had some sort of dream about Josef, but he wasn't talking about it, and she didn't feel like pressing him. 

The last week hadn't been easy. Christmas was a somber affair. Harry had spent the day at the Burrow and Hermione had stopped by later that day. None of them were in good spirits and everyone was aware of it. Bill had pulled Ginny aside on Christmas morning to ask just what had happened. She didn't have the heart to explain it all but told him enough that he kept the others from pushing for answers.

Harry had given her a beautiful emerald necklace. She'd even managed a genuine smile upon seeing it. It was perfect. It truly did make her happy, but it was hard to feel truly happy when the world felt broken and ready to begin crumbling around her.

Josef had known it was happening. Perhaps he'd known for quite some time. She understood why he hadn't told anyone. Who would believe him? Instead, he'd been trying to help them find the answers he'd already expected. He'd been right in the end. He'd found what he was looking for and it had corrupted him. She still had nightmares about finding him outside the Veil Chamber. The guilt of running still haunted her and she didn't know how to ever make it go away. She knew there was nothing they could have done, and even Josef would have told her that, but that didn't make the dreams go away.

Harry had some plan. He wasn't talking about that either, but he had told her the goal of his plan. Objectively, she understood why it should be done, even why it needed to be done, but the thought of actually doing it was quite a bit more difficult. Harry hadn't seen Mira at her worst. He hadn't watched her try to take what was left of her life with a piece of jagged glass. He hadn't seen the despair in Andros's eyes as he pretended to attack her. They had both wanted to die. They welcomed it, even begged for it to take them.

Josef had been different, though. She'd only seen him for a short while, but she'd noticed it immediately. He didn't want to die. He wanted to fight. There was fear and disgust, but not the empty gaze of the doomed that she'd seen in Mira and Andros. Killing Andros had been an act of mercy and respect. Could she look at Josef, knowing that he still wanted to fight, and kill him? Could Harry?

She wrestled with these thoughts as they approached the main gates. Rodgers and Rife were guarding them and eying Harry and Ginny with suspicion. They tried to question their reasons for coming, but Harry was impatient and simply stepped around them. They could do little more than look on with disgruntled expressions as Ginny followed him, continuing toward Hogwarts.

The grounds were completely deserted. The students wouldn't be returning until the following Sunday. Even the professors hadn't returned from the holidays. The Aurors had remained and this meant that Tonks would be there and Lupin wouldn't be far, either.

It actually worked out rather well. They should be able to slip away without drawing much attention at all. Lupin wouldn't have any classes. The Aurors didn't have any students to guard. Though many wizards had already returned to their jobs, Ginny and Hermione hadn't. Ron didn't have any matches to think about for a few more weeks. If they all disappeared for a day, no one would even notice. Whatever Harry was planning, she had to admit it was already far more subtle than usual.

They passed silently through the final courtyard and walked up to the main door. There were no Aurors guarding it and no one to meet them. Ginny tried to tell herself she should have expected that, but it did feel a bit odd. Harry must have felt the same way because he smoothly pulled his wand from his robes and paused at the door. Opening it quietly, he slipped in leaving Ginny behind for the moment. She reached for her wand and caught the door in her other hand before following him.

As soon as she stepped into the Entrance Hall, she could hear voices nearby. The hall itself was empty except for her and Harry. He walked forward cautiously as she strained to recognized the voices. There seemed to be a number of them. The door shut behind them, the sound of wood striking stone echoing through the small hall.

The voices died suddenly and Harry turned to scowl at her. He motioned for her to stand against the wall as he stepped behind a large pedestal on the far side of the hall. The voices began again, but they were hushed and sharp. There was a light scuffle of feet as a shadow stepped into the doorway to the Great Hall. Harry raised his wand as the figure raced forward.

"Harry, stop!" The voice was sharp and familiar. It was Hermione. Harry quickly lowered his wand and Ginny stepped out into the center of the hall. "Are you alright?" Hermione asked as she strode toward them. "Has there been another attack, or—"

"We're fine," interrupted Harry. "Is Lupin here?"

Hermione continued walking, conspicuously putting herself between Harry and the doorway to the Great Hall. "Yes, I was just talking with him. Listen, Harry. There is something—"

"I don't have time, Hermione," he said as he tried to step around her like he had the Aurors at the gate. She quickly sidestepped, holding her hands out in front of her to stop him.

It worked. For a moment, both he and Ginny stared at her hands. One was bare and plain while the other was covered in a close-fitting glove of some black, satiny material.

"Harry, stay calm. Now is not the time to go bursting into—"

"I don't have time for this," he replied forcefully. "We've got less than five hours. I need to talk to Lupin."

"You need to _be patient,_" Hermione snapped as she shoved him with her gloved hand. He stumbled backward and by time he had regained his balance, Hermione had her wand pointed at his chest. Instinctively, Ginny rushed forward, her wand held tightly in her hand.

"_Relax,_" Hermione ordered both of them. "There's something you need to know."

From the corner of Ginny's eye, she saw Ron step into the doorway to the Great Hall. He looked as shocked as Harry was.

"Ron, what's going on?" Harry asked him.

"It's... complicated," Ron replied.

"I don't want to hex you, Harry," Hermione said wearily, "but I can't trust you to act rationally if you walk through that doorway."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why not?" he asked suspiciously. Ginny turned to look at Ron. She wanted to see what Hermione was protecting, but didn't want to leave Harry either. In the end, Ron's cool expression convinced her there was no need for urgent action and she joined Harry in a quiet corner of the Entrance Hall with Hermione.

After making sure that Harry was calm, she announced that Valencia Desmoda had returned to Hogwarts early that morning. Harry's reaction was unexpectedly subdued. His voice remained even and controlled as he asked what reason she had given for her sudden departure.

Hermione spoke quickly, as though she were afraid that Harry might suddenly change his mind and charge into the Great Hall at any moment. Valencia had claimed that she was worried she might be exposed to whatever had been affecting Evelyn and had left to see an old family Healer.

"An old family Healer?" Harry repeated. "Did she say anything more about him?"

"She never said the Healer was a wizard," corrected Hermione. Both she and Ginny caught the obvious suggestion. It was equally obvious that Harry didn't believe the explanation, but Hermione didn't let him ask any more questions about it. She continued talking, telling them that Valencia had returned asking if any new wizards had come to Hogwarts within the past day. No one knew anything about it and Justinian announced that other than himself, the Aurors and Valencia, he hadn't seen anyone else on the grounds since he returned.

"Wait," Harry said, stopping her. "Justinian is back, too?"

"Of course," replied Hermione, as though this should have been obvious.

"Did he say why he ran off?"

Hermione let out a sigh. "He'll never admit it now, but I'd say he left because Valencia did."

"And they both came back just now?" Harry asked flatly. Without waiting for an answer, he continued: "And you expect me to think that it's all just a coincidence and I should trust them?"

"It's not a coincidence, Harry," she told him. "Justinian is a professor. Valencia is the librarian. The students come back at the end of the week. All of the Hogwarts staff is returning. Flitwick came back yesterday and Professor Vector is supposed to be here before noon." Harry looked uncomfortable.

"This is why I couldn't let you just burst in, Harry," she whispered. "We know what was behind the attacks now. It wasn't them. Granted, there is something odd about Valencia. There's something odd about Lupin, too, but neither of them has the secrets we do." Harry's eyes flicked up at Hermione and Ginny caught a brief flash of unexplained anger.

"They want to help us, Harry."

"Help us do _what?_" snapped Harry. "They can't know what we're planning. Not even _you_ know. Whatever they know they got it from that... thing."

"Oh wake up, Harry," Hermione replied. "You don't have to be a spy to figure out what's happening here. You sent Ron and I an owl telling us to find Lupin and Tonks and meet you here. The moment they heard you were coming here, he knew you were planning something. Bloody hell, Harry, even I have a good idea of what you want to do."

Ginny watched passively, trying to understand the subtle changes in how they reacted to each other. It took her a moment before she realized that it had been Josef who had taught her how to do it. He'd said that people's reactions were most telling —most real— when they were under stress. Watching Harry and Hermione talking felt odd to her. They had always been friends, but ever since Harry had revealed himself to the wizarding world, he and Hermione hadn't gotten along as well as they had.

She had noticed it before, but had always assumed it was nothing more than some row over her working for Reynard or differences in how to handle things. Now that she was watching closer, there was something more. There was something unresolved that kept them from ever really fighting and yet stopped them from ever really being comfortable with each other. Before Ginny realized what was happening, Harry and Hermione had stopped talking and were walking toward the Great Hall.

She hurried to follow them. Though she knew what to expect, seeing Valencia standing in the middle of the large hall was still shocking. There was something different about her. She was alert and the moment they entered, her eyes locked onto Hermione's gloved hand. Standing in a semicircle around Valencia were Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks and Simon Weller. All of them shared the same serious expression.

Leaning against the wall some distance away was Justinian. He had noticed Valencia's interest in Hermione's arm, but there didn't seem to be any surprise in it. It shouldn't have been terribly surprising. Hermione had been talking with them before she and Harry had arrived. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen Hermione's hand. Did Valencia know something about it?

McGonagall began talking to them, but Ginny wasn't listening. She was watching Justinian. He hadn't moved an inch since they entered the hall, but his eyes were smoothly jumping from one person to the other. It took her only a moment to realize that he was doing the same thing she was. No doubt everyone else had been talking about things he had no knowledge of and now he was trying to catch up as quickly as possible. Suddenly, Harry began speaking and Ginny turned away from Justinian to pay closer attention.

"We're going back to Romania," he announced. Tonks and Simon exchanged uncertain looks. Lupin and Valencia simply stared back at him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry," Lupin began.

"That's precisely why I want to do it," replied Harry. "It's unexpected. There's little chance that we'll be walking into a trap."

"Harry, after what you reported before Christmas, the Ministry sent a pair of wizards down to investigate," Simon said in a soft voice. "They didn't come back. They didn't even have a chance to send a report. What makes you think you would do any better?"

"I know what I'm up against," he answered confidently. "I'm better trained for it. I know my way. I have a goal," he continued, "and I'm taking more than one person with me."

"Ron and Hermione have been trained, but Ginny hasn't," said Lupin. "You know Arthur and Molly would never approve—"

"They can't stop me any more than Harry can," Ginny argued, "and I know more about what is happening than you do."

Lupin frowned and nodded. "How many more then?" he asked. "Did you want to assemble the Order?"

"No. They'll just argue about it until it's too late. We need to get there before sunset. I was thinking it would be the four of us, you and and a few others we know we can trust. No more than ten."

"Just what is it that we're facing?" Simon asked. "Why do we have to be there before sunset?"

"He's hoping that the sun will scare off the vampires," Hermione announced. Lupin's eyes widened and off to the side, Ginny saw Justinian step forward with a worried expression.

"There might be werewolves, too," Harry added with a glance toward Lupin. "I'm hoping the whole place will be quieter during the day. I doubt it would be any worse."

"That's all?" asked Simon. "Just how many of them are there? We've been trained to deal with these sorts of things. I can't imagine that Romania doesn't do the same. Where are all of their wizards who are trained for such things?"

"We think they've been turned into vampires and werewolves," Ginny answered. Hearing herself say it, the importance and meaning of the statement became much clearer. The best wizards in the Brotherhood had fallen to this thing that had escaped from behind the Veil. What made Harry think they could succeed where everyone else had failed?

"They're not the usual sort, either," Harry told them. He quickly explained the fact that they had fought a werewolf weeks before the full moon as well as the abnormal abilities of the vampires.

"That's not terribly encouraging," Lupin replied. "Are we hunting vampires and werewolves then? Or is there something more dangerous you have in mind?"

"We can talk about it more when we get there," answered Harry. Ginny understood his reluctance. Telling them he wanted to kill a wizard —even out of mercy— was hardly the way to get volunteers.

Lupin either didn't care or already guessed what Harry had in mind. He nodded solemnly and said he would do it. Tonks and Simon whispered to each other for a moment before agreeing as well. "Ian won't be pleased, but I expect we won't be gone long. It's been dead quiet around her anyway."

Ginny noticed Harry relaxing a little. Ginny found herself wondering why. Was he worried that he'd have to do it alone? Showing a little more confidence, he began asking Lupin and Tonks about other Aurors they could trust. McGonagall objected to the suggestion of taking any more Aurors from Hogwarts. This left everyone at a bit of a dead end. Harry didn't want to take Mad-Eye Moody. It might take hours for any of the other members of the Order to get to Hogwarts.

"I will go," announced Valencia.

"That's okay," Harry replied with a thin smile. "I need people I can trust."

"No, you need people who can face vampires and werewolves," she said. "You are Harry Potter. There are dozens of wizards who would obey any command you gave them. Your presence might encourage them enough to face a normal vampire, but you'd only be sending them to their death if you forced them to fight these vampires."

Harry stared at her and demanded to know what she meant. "These vampires," she began, "they are not the mindless, feral sort which used to infest the area around Romania. They are different, aren't they? They act differently. They even look different: black eyes, perhaps even black teeth."

Harry's eyes widened. "How could you—"

"I know many things, Potter. The world is filled with mysteries far beyond anything you have experienced in your short life," she said. "If you have seen these creatures, then I can only assume that you're here because you ran. You claim to want someone you can trust because you need to know they won't desert you at the sight of these things and force you to attempt to save them."

"I need someone who is there to help me. Where we're going, there are already plenty of enemies, I don't need to bring any more with me."

"No, you do a fine job of creating them," she snapped back at him. "I have no desire to be your enemy. I have many things I would much rather spend my time doing. If you were truly afraid of bringing your enemies with you, you would leave her behind," she said, lazily waving a hand at Hermione.

This prompted a scowl and harsh remark from Ron, followed by a quickly escalating series of shouts until Professor McGonagall spoke up. After a few moments of tense silence, Valencia spoke up again, this time in a much more controlled tone.

"I want to help you," she said. "I know I can help you. You let me help you before. Let me do it again."

Harry crossed his arms and stared up at the blue sky on the ceiling of the hall. "I'll think about it," he replied.

"Then think about me, too," said Justinian.

Valencia rolled her eyes. "He needs wizards, not fools," she said. "If we had problems with Doxies, you would be our first choice."

Justinian walked closer to the rest of them. "I've dealt with my share of frightening situations. I've killed things they don't even have names for yet. Ask any of the Aurors," he said with a gesture toward Tonks and Simon.

Valencia ignored him. "If you're serious about this, Potter, you need to make some decisions. I understand why you want those three to go, but that's no reason to take any wizard who knows how to point a wand."

"He's not just any wizard," Ginny said, finally speaking up. "He's good. Maybe even very good." She turned toward Justinian and found him watching her with a strange look in his eyes, somewhat like admiration.

"Well, that's better than nothing," Harry commented. "I don't think there are many other options." He gave a quick nod to Justinian. "Thanks for helping, even if you don't have any idea what you're getting yourself into."

Justinian returned the gesture with a flat smile. "I'll try not to disappoint you."

"Alright," Lupin said with a sigh. "When do we go?"

"As soon as possible. We'll need brooms, though," Harry said.

"Brooms?" Hermione groaned. "We're going to _fly_?"

"Yes, that's what we usually use brooms for," Harry answered flatly. Hermione mumbled a feeble complaint, but she was quickly silenced. "It's faster and safer than walking," he told her. "Or it should be, so long as we're able to find something better than what they give the first years."

"The Aurors have a number of brooms for emergencies," offered Simon. "I'll fetch... nine, is it?" Harry gave Valencia a sour look and opened his mouth to protest.

"Yes, nine," Justinian said quickly.

Simon looked from Justinian to Harry and back. When no one else said anything more, he nodded quickly. "Right, then. I'll go fetch them."

Looking rather disgruntled, Harry continued. "We'll also want a Portkey," he said to Lupin. "Probably two since there are going to be nine of us. They should take us somewhere unimportant —not the Ministry and not here."

After a moment of thought, Lupin shrugged. "I don't really keep a collection of Portkeys around, but we can always make a couple. It will take a little time, but there's nothing more we can do about it." Harry agreed and Lupin quickly left, telling everyone that he needed to collect things from his office. Tonks left with him, saying that if they were going to be flying, they would need extra cloaks to protect them from the winter air.

One by one, the group broke up as everyone left to make preparations to leave. Professor McGonagall, the only one who wasn't going to Romania, paused only to warn Harry about risking the lives of his friends needlessly. Harry tried to assure her that he knew what he was doing, but she didn't look convinced. Valencia left soon after that, claiming that she needed to see that Vink had food. After watching her leave, Ginny found that Justinian had already slipped out of the hall, leaving her and Harry alone with Ron and Hermione.

"Are you sure you should do this?" Ron asked Hermione quietly. When she responded with a confused glance, he nodded toward her gloved hand. "It got worse after the last time," he said.

She looked down at the floor and self-consciously stuffed her left hand into a deep pocket in her robes. "I already told you, Ron. It didn't make it worse."

"Didn't help, either," he mumbled.

"And neither will sitting around here and doing nothing," she replied. To Ginny's ears she sounded as though she was trying not to shout at him. "If anything is going to make this better, it's stopping whatever caused it. I can help. I... I don't know why, but I can." Ron accepted this with a shrug and followed Hermione as she walked back toward the Entrance Hall.

Harry lagged behind them, and Ginny slowed her pace to match his. He looked troubled. Something wasn't going the way he wanted to. Though Ron and Hermione had stopped near the doorway, Harry continued past them, pushing the heavy door open and stepping out into the crisp winter air.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked him as the door creaked shut behind them.

"I don't trust her," he said as he stared at low hanging sun. "I don't know why. I just don't."

Ginny tried to reassure him. "Hermione is right, Harry," she said. "There's no reason not to trust her. For a long time Josef thought the same way. He was wrong."

"Or maybe he was right and never got a chance to prove it," replied Harry.

"Would it make you feel better to know that she doesn't trust you?" Ron asked as he stood near Harry. "She doesn't seem to be all that keen on Hermione, either. She thinks the two of you might have spent too much time around this thing. Maybe that's why she was so insistent."

"That's really not helping, Ron. I need someone who will help me not hex me the moment I flinch in the wrong direction."

"She can help us, Harry," Hermione said. "She knows more than you'd expect for her age, Lupin says she can handle a wand well, and she did save you and Ginny when you were in the Chamber. I trust her."

Harry let out a deep breath and stared at her. "I don't."

"Then trust me."

Ginny spun around and found Justinian watching them from a nearby bench. He quickly stood up and walked toward them with a slow confident gait.

"Whatever you might think, Harry, you are not her enemy and there is no reason why she should be yours. I understand your reluctance to accept her, so let me offer you this. If you cannot trust her, then trust me. I will keep an eye on her. If she threatens any of us, I will handle it. Is that acceptable?"

Harry gave him an appraising stare for a moment. "No," he answered flatly. "You could no more attack her than I could attack Ginny."

"I seem to recall rumors that you already have attacked Ginny," Justinian said as the corners of his mouth twitched. "It was a popular story among the seventh years. I believe a table was involved?" Ginny felt her face growing hot, but she refused to react. Justinian was polite enough not to mention it. "If I am forced to attack Valencia, I can only hope that the experience is similar."

"Well, you should know that I got kicked in the head during that experience," Harry said as he turned around and glared back at the castle. "Fine," he finally growled. "We can use all the help we can get."

* * *

After all the supplies had been collected, everyone gathered outside in the small courtyard. The winter air was chilly but not so cold that it managed to take Harry's mind off the task at hand. Lupin and Simon had asked for details of Harry's plan, but he had brushed the questions aside. In truth, he didn't have all the details yet. So much was unknown that it was difficult to really say exactly how it would all work. 

The very first part was easy enough. There was no reason to think that the Anti-Apparation spells weren't still in place. If they wanted to get into the city well before sunset, they would be forced to use the Floo again. That would also mean they'd have to use the Gatehouse again. No matter what time of day they showed up, it would be dark there. Perhaps if they were really lucky the vampires there would be asleep and they could slip out without having to do any fighting at all.

In truth, he doubted this would actually happen. There was a very good chance they would end up running out of the Gatehouse much like they had before Christmas. The difference this time was the brooms. He hadn't thought of them last time, but he remembered Josef telling them that that was how Dragomir had managed to get his message out of the city. If his messenger had been safe on a broom, they probably would be as well. At the very least, it couldn't be less safe than the ground.

After passing through the gate, Harry began explaining everything that had happened the last time they went to Romania. Tonks, Simon, Lupin and Justinian all accepted it silently. Valencia seemed more confused.

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing, then?" she asked. "It sounds like the city has already been decimated. What point is there in trying to save any of them? We can't use Portkeys to get them all out and we can't expect they'll make it out through the Gatehouse. I'd think that trying to save them would just make whatever evil things lurk in the area hunt them even harder."

Harry caught Ginny staring at him, silently telling him that it was time to tell them the full truth. As they stopped and prepared to Apparate away from Hogwarts, he told them what he planned to do. They were going to find Josef and kill him in whatever way they could find. Once that was done, they would do whatever they could to understand what had happened and what else needed to be done.

They Apparated to an empty field outside Edinburgh where Lupin said he could make a pair of Portkeys. That way, even if things went horribly wrong, they wouldn't be giving anyone or anything an easy way to get into Hogwarts or the Ministry. As Lupin worked, Harry tried to explain the mercy in Josef's death.

Once the Portkeys were created, they Apparated to a pub in York which let them take the Floo to Vienna. As they stood by the fireplace that would finally take them to the Gatehouse in Romania, Harry finally managed to make Simon and Tonks understand just what would happen to Josef if they failed.

"I'll go first," Harry volunteered. "This was my idea."

"No, Potter," Valencia said as she stepped toward the fireplace. "It's time for you to learn how things are done." Harry tried to stop her, but she quickly tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the flames and stepped into the fireplace. "There is a reason why generals lead from behind. If you're attacked and killed or even injured, then we've risked our lives for nothing." She turned toward Lupin and spoke sternly. "See that he waits until the Aurors have left." Without any more delay, she stepped back into the flames, shouted her destination and disappeared in a whirl of flames.

Harry immediately reached for the bag of Floo Powder, but Lupin reached out to stop him before he could approach the fireplace. Tonks and Simon were right behind him, saying that Valencia was correct. Even Hermione agreed.

And so Harry waited. Ginny stood next to him, silently holding his hand as he watched Simon and Tonks each leave in a rush of green flame. Lupin and the bundle of brooks were next. He left one of the Portkeys with Harry, who quickly handed it to Ginny. Harry listened to no more protests after that. Giving Ginny a quick kiss, he strode toward the fireplace and waited for the flames to return.

The trip from Vienna to the Gatehouse seemed to take even longer than it had the previous time. Just when he was about to start thinking that he'd fouled something up, he saw a faint red light whip past him once, then slow down and grow larger until he felt himself being tossed toward it. He prepared himself for the entry, trying to gauge how to recover as quickly as possible.

He burst out of the fireplace, attempted to keep his footing, and lost it almost immediately as he failed to tell just where the floor was. He held his wand tight as he crashed onto the floor and tried to figure out where everyone was. He heard voices and running feet. Rolling back onto his feet, he sprang up and began scanning the room for any sign of danger.

At the far end of the room, Valencia stood holding aloft a deep red orb which bathed the room in ominous light. Her other hand held a wand, but it was pointed at the ground. Lupin was crouched down behind a scorched sofa, working with the bundle of broomsticks. Tonks and Simon were near the door. Brief flashes of light illuminated the area, followed by whispered swearing.

"It's thoroughly broken," Simon announced. "Remus, sort out those brooms. We'll not be able to stay here. These doors are utter rubbish. Oh, hello, Harry."

Ron tumbled out of the fireplace, looking even less graceful than Harry had felt. He flopped around a little bit, turning his wand toward the center of the room. Finding nothing, he picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his robes. "That fireplace..." he groaned, "...there's something a bit off about it."

"Yeah, maybe we'll come back to fix it next week," Harry mumbled back.

"Harry! Remus!" Tonks shouted. "I think I saw something out there. What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, don't buy it dinner!" Ron shouted.

"There are only two left," Lupin called out. "The brooms are ready. I'd rather not have to fight here, if there's any choice."

Harry took position at the door next to Tonks and Simon. Hermione arrived seconds later. Though everyone was trying to be as quiet as possible, the room was becoming noisy enough for sound to echo back to them from the corridor. Harry saw one last flash of flame. He knew what it meant, but he wasn't willing to take his eyes off the corridor. He remembered how quickly the vampires had appeared last time.

The crimson light behind him dimmed and shifted, making shadows flit across the walls around him. The others were moving quickly. A moment later, he felt a soft hand on his back. Ginny handed him a broom and kept another for herself.

The moment everyone had a broom and their wand ready, the walked out of the room. The corridor felt slightly different in the daytime. It was still terribly dark, but there were occasional bright patches as sunlight filtered in from some crack or obscured window above. If possible, the effect was even more disconcerting than he'd expected. In the dim patches of light he was able to make out scratches, spatters of blood and the occasional outline of a long-dead corpse.

They made it to the long corridor leading to the gate without incident. There were fewer signs of battle there, but his memories were fresh in his mind. He asked Valencia to get rid of the light and keep an eye out for anyone who might be following them.

They reached the spot where they had found the wizard named Mihai, but there was no sign of him. A quick investigation found a large pool of blood and a few tattered bandages.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Ron asked. "One more vampire for us to worry about, I guess."

The others showed a little more concern. In the dim light, streaks of blood could be seen leading toward the gate. They weren't far now, and Harry knew that it would be the most likely place for an ambush to take place. He whispered a warning to the others and continued down the corridor.

As the group neared the door, Hermione strode forward to tap Harry's shoulder and whisper an urgent warning in his ear. She told him that she had a bad feeling about the gate. Even without her warning, Harry knew something wasn't right. The area ahead of the gate felt wrong. It was quiet. It felt as though the air was swallowing all sound. He told the others to stop as he continued forward. Valencia tried to protest, but Harry silenced her with an enraged glare.

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped. "Stay back and stay alert." As he walked ahead of them, he turned and glanced at Ginny. She nodded, knowing what her part would be.

Harry raised his wand and lit it up. The end of the corridor brightened immediately, but not nearly as much as he expected. In horror he looked down at his feet and found the floor stained by some dark liquid he could guess all too well.

"Harry," Ron called out from behind him. "I think we found our missing wizard."

Harry turned to look where Ron was pointing and found a darkened lump against the wall. He only needed a moment to identify him. He face was pale and drawn, and his eyes were completely black. Harry stepped a little closer to get a better look. As they expected there were a pair of wounds on his neck. However, they were completely overshadowed by a rather large table leg that was jutting out of his chest.

"Bloody hell," whispered Ron. "Who did that?"

"The same person who did that, I'd guess," Lupin replied.

Harry looked toward the gate and saw another body. It had some sort of spear through its chest. It was sitting lifelessly against the gate and staring at him with dark, empty eyes. Its jaw was slack, revealing black, pointed teeth.

Harry looked around, wondering what happened. The vampires had obviously attacked Mihai, and sometime after that, someone had come to kill them. The question was just who that could have been. The door was still closed tightly. There was no sign that it had been opened and he doubted anyone had been left alive in the Gatehouse. There was only one other possibility.

"They turned on each other," he announced in a loud voice.

"That's a little hard to believe, Harry," said Lupin. "There's no way he ran a spear through that one with a table leg through his chest. It's barely more likely the other way around."

Hermione's eyes widened. "There's still one more. Harry, we need to open the gate. _Now._"

As Harry spun around, he heard a harsh hiss coming from the shadows. He had just enough time to call out Ginny's name before a ghostly shape leaped out at him from behind one of the large posts. It grabbed his shoulders with inhuman force and spun, tossing Harry against the far wall.

Pain flowed freely through Harry's body. He blinked his eyes against the flashes and tried to find where his attacker had gone. A second later, bright light filled the room and he saw a dark shadow looming over him. He was about to raise his wand when he realized the shadow was Ginny. Using the wall for support, he pushed himself to his feet. A bright, white light was coming from Hermione's wand. The others had seemed to scatter. Tonks and Simon were standing nearby with their wands drawn.

Just as Harry had expected, the vampire had stopped the moment Ginny stepped between it and him. It stood in place, glaring and snarling at her, yet it was somehow warded off by her presence. Just as surprising was the strange feeling that the vampire hadn't really wanted to attack him either. He'd been tossed aside immediately but the creature hadn't continued the attack. There should have been plenty of time.

The vampire was slowly backing away from Harry, repelled by Ginny. A slow smile spread across its face as it stared at the others. Ginny could only protect a few of them, and it realized this. It took a quick step to the side, prompting Ginny to follow it, but before she'd even finished, it had veered in the opposite direction, lunging toward Ron and Hermione. Luckily, Ron was able to grab her and pull them aside before it had a chance to grab either of them. Ginny ran after it, trying to keep herself between it and her friends.

There was a flash of light and a metallic _clang_ rang through the corridor. "The gates won't open!" Tonks shouted. "It's been charmed." Harry cursed himself for not thinking of this before. Lupin raised his wand and another, deeper sound rang out, but the gates held.

"It's a trap!" Simon cried. "Is there any other way out?"

Commotion filled the small space as Harry's friends clamored to organize themselves. Hearing of the problems with the gates, Hermione had run forward. It had been her charm that shut them, perhaps she could open them.

Finally seeing an opening, Harry focused all his thought on the vampire. His spell struck the creature with amazing force, driving it across the corridor and slamming it into the wall hard enough to crack the masonry. As it collapsed onto the floor, dazed from the impact, a number of hexes struck it from every direction. Ginny stepped back, afraid of getting hit by a stray curse.

The gates let out a low rumble. "I did it!" shouted Hermione. "I broke the charm. The gates are almost open. There's only one—"

Her voice was cut short as the vampire leaped across the corridor and knocked her to the floor. Harry ran forward, trying to find a clear shot at the creature. A voice in his mind scolded him. There were too many people. They were tripping over each other trying to get anything done. When he finally got clear, the vampire had Hermione pinned to the ground with one hand clamped dangerously tight around her neck.

Ron was enraged. He tried stunning it, but the hex only made the vampire hiss and clamp down harder on Hermione's neck. Just as Harry was wondering where Ginny was, he felt her hand brush his shoulder. "The gates, soon," she whispered as she passed by.

The vampire seemed mesmerized by Ginny as she approached. Even Hermione's eyes were fixed on her as she gracefully crouched down, inches away from the vampire.

"Let her go," Ginny commanded in soft tones.

For a moment, the vampire seemed confused and Harry thought it might actually release Hermione. Instead it bared its shiny black teeth and let out a fierce hiss. Its hands moved a bit, exposing Hermione's neck and muffling her scream and it lunged forward suddenly. Harry raised his wand, though he didn't know just what to do.

Suddenly, the shadows behind the vampire shifted and melted away to reveal Simon. He had dropped his wand and broom and had grabbed the broken table leg that had killed the other wizard. With a shout, he drove the leg down into the vampire's back. It let out wild cry and twisted, snapping the table leg in half and striking Simon in the ribs with its arm.

"Harry! The gates!" Ginny cried as the vampire turned its attention back to her. It grabbed her jaw in one hand and used the other to twist her arm until she screamed in pain.

Harry ignored her and focused on the gates instead. He told himself over and over that it wouldn't hurt her. It hadn't been able to do it the first time, it wouldn't do anything this time either. It was just a threat. It was trying to scare him into doing the one thing that would let them escape. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He could almost see the gates and the magic holding them shut. They were strong, but he had to be stronger.

He opened his eyes again and saw Ginny's arm bent unnaturally and the expression of restrained agony on her face. A surge of anger flowed up from his stomach and he turned his wand on the gates. They let out a mighty shudder then parted in a single violent instant. The gates swung outward with the sound of bending metal and the noon sunlight streamed in.

The vampire let out choked gasp as the light hit it. For a moment, the black of its eyes faded to reveal a brief flash of blue, then darkened again as it tossed Ginny aside and charged at Harry. He turned his wand on it, casting a hasty charm which he already knew would fail. The vampire ignored the feeble attempt, snarling and baring its fangs. Harry prepared himself for the attack as it crouched low and prepared to strike.

At the last moment, red light flashed in Harry's eyes and he felt something heavy strike the ground at his feet. He recoiled instinctually, still ready to fight off an attacking vampire. It took him a few seconds to realize that his attacker was already lying at his feet. Its head had been severed cleanly just below the jaw and it was lying inches from the rest of its body. Black liquid poured out from its neck, creating and acrid fume where it flowed into the sunlight.

Not far away, Valencia stood with her wand still pointed at the vampire's corpse. She and Harry stared at each other for a moment as though trying to size each other up.

"That could have been helpful earlier," he said stiffly.

"—And unneeded if you would have opened the gates right away," she said with a mocking smile.

Before Harry could decide whether she meant it as an accusation or an attempt at a friendly retort, Lupin spoke up, suggesting that they not linger too long. Harry agreed. At the very least they all could move into the sunlight.

They all stepped through the gateway and into the courtyard. Valencia led the way, quickly pulling up her deep hood and tying her cloak tightly. Simon wasn't far behind. He made his way toward some cracked stonework that had been a fountain and sat down holding his side and wincing in pain. While Hermione and Tonks tended to him, the others took a moment to look around the shattered courtyard.

At night, it had been dreary and disheartening. Harry hoped the noon sun might improve on that, but it only served to make the truth that much more evident. The ground was still mostly covered in snow. Quite a few tracks were crossing it, and Harry watched as Lupin crouched down to look at some peculiar shaped ones.

"Some sort of creature," he mumbled. "Not a werewolf but... not a wizard, either."

There was no sign of the people they had seen that night, except for a number of bodies strewn around the edge of the courtyard. If any had survived, they were probably smart enough to remember what happened the last time someone came through the gates.

The large tower nearby which had been used as an inn was blackened and crumbling. The uppermost floors had disappeared and the walls were broken or missing in quite a few places. Behind it, and all around the horizon, was a thick brown haze, slowly rising into the sky. It looked like a city that had been under siege for weeks, and in truth it had. However, the attackers had come from within.

"How is Simon?" Harry asked Hermione.

"It's nothing serious," she answered. "A broken rib or two."

"I've had worse." Simon said as he gingerly wrapped his winter cloak around him. "It's already started getting better."

"Good," he replied. "It will have to finish in the air. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."

* * *

As Ginny rose into the sky on her broom, she looked out at the city and felt her chest tighten. The city wasn't huge, but it was large enough to cover most of her view of the ground. In her mind, she had imagined that most of the damage, like most of the activity in the city, would be focused around the High Street. The truth was almost too much to believe. 

The dark haze they had seen from the courtyard was the drifting smoke from a hundred fires still burning through the city. The worst of the damage was near the High Street, but the street itself seemed to have fared uncannily well. It was impossible to believe this was a coincidence, or that it had any other explanation beyond some evil spirit's attempt to draw them to it.

And that was precisely what they had done. Harry had led them all down the path, just as he was meant to. Ginny looked up to watch Harry as he led them again. She couldn't help but remember the last conversations she'd had with Josef. He had always been very trusting of Harry, but just before he left for Romania, he'd started asking her odd questions about him: Did he sleep well? Were there ever magical accidents around the mansion? Did he ever have trouble controlling his spells? She'd denied all of them. but the questions still hung in her mind. Why had he asked? She'd guessed the reason long ago, but it was impossible to believe that Harry played any part in the destruction she now saw beneath her.

She stared down at it again, no longer seeing it, but _feeling_ it. It wasn't the scene of a battle, or even revenge. There was no order, no visible goals. No part of the city had been left untouched. It was systematic, thorough and utterly remorseless. No one could be seen walking in the streets. There were only corpses and piles of blasted rubble. It wasn't the work of dark magic. It was rage. It was a soulless, empty desire for pain and suffering. Whatever had done this to the city hadn't done so because it couldn't leave, it did it because it hated the city and hated everything in it. It was impossible to think of anything being capable of such an act.

Ahead of her, Harry was dropping to fly lower over the city. Hermione was already much lower than he was, holding her broom unsteadily in one hand and pointing down at the High Street with the other. Below them, not far from the main gates of the Castle, Ginny could just make out a number of small shapes moving around the area. They looked like people, but she couldn't help but feel some amount of apprehension at the sight of them. They couldn't be vampires. They were walking about in the sunlight. However, that still didn't make her feel any better about getting closer to them.

If any of the others felt the same way, they weren't letting it affect them. Using little more than hand signals, the entire group spiraled downward toward the High Street. When Ginny could just barely make out the lettering on the shop signs they all leveled out into a wide turn taking them away from the Castle and over the charred remains of the area where Harry and Ginny had narrowly escaped Grigore. As they circled around to the High Street again, Harry pulled his broom into a steep loop and dropped down even lower. Racing along the rooftops in an erratic path, he got a closer look at the moving shapes while everyone else watched from above.

Ginny watched nervously as he passed almost directly over them. She slowed down slightly, preparing to drop into a dive if anything bad might happen. A moment later, it was all over and he was in a steep climb on his way to rejoin them.

"Refugees," he shouted over the wind as they flew in a high circle around the Castle. "I don't know why they're there, but they didn't seem to be hiding from anything at the moment."

A quick discussion followed, and it was decided that they should enter through the main gates. The fact that wizards were there and walking about in full view must mean there was less danger there. After completing the circle around the Castle, a more obvious reason presented itself. The Castle hadn't escaped the destruction subjected to the rest of the city. It, too, was broken and smoldering in many places. The tower Ginny had been first taken to was now nothing more than a pile of tumbled stone. Even the walls near the main door had collapsed, baring the first hall to the sky.

Instead of landing in the midst of the loose collection of witches and wizards outside the gates, they opted to simply fly over them slow enough to try and understand what had happened. There was little chance of any useful conversations, in any case. As they flew down the High Street, Ginny caught only brief glimpses of the people she'd seen from the sky. Though they had not reacted strongly to Harry's first pass, seeing nine wizards flying low over the street was a little too much excitement for most of them. They quickly scattered, ducking into burned out buildings and hiding in whatever shadows they could find.

The nine of them continued onward, slowing as they passed over the first gate and finally landing in the small courtyard. It looked very much like it had six days earlier. The outer gates had been forced open, almost certainly from the outside. A quick look around the courtyard suggested the reason. A number of witches and wizards were huddling under whatever shelter they could find. Most of them were staring at the strangers who'd just dropped out of the sky, though Ginny couldn't tell if it was out of surprise or fear.

Whatever it was, none of them approached the group, and neither Harry nor anyone else made any move to approach them. The main door to the Castle was still open, though that hardly mattered. Half of the front wall had been torn away, leaving a good deal of the stone from it in a heap at one side of the courtyard.

They passed through the gate and climbed over the rubble which had once filled the gaping hole in the ceiling above them. A few wizards had taken refuge there as well, though the precarious nature of the stone overhead seemed to have scared most of them into the courtyard. Harry deftly led them through the stone to a wide corridor that appeared mostly untouched. After walking some distance, Ginny found herself in a familiar place. It was the large hall made of polished rose marble. The secret door leading to the lower parts of the Castle was broken and wedged with pieces of the marble from the wall. They climbed through, following Harry deeper into the fortress.

A number of them lit their wands while the others kept theirs at the ready in case of some sudden attack. The fact that villagers were living inside the courtyard was encouraging, but it was doubtful they ventured deep into the Castle. Despite their confusion and wonder at their surroundings, no one spoke. They simply let Harry lead them. He was picking his way through the darkened corridors with a confidence that suggested he knew where he was headed.

After some time, Ginny noticed the walls of the corridor disappear on either side of her. They had entered some sort of long hall. She lit her wand to get a better view of her surroundings and noticed the walls and floors littered with an odd assortment of items. Between boxes of food and heaps of robes and brooms were much older things, some of them looking like short swords mounted on a long wooden pole. Quite a few doorways opened on either side of them, but Harry made no motion toward any of them. He continued straight ahead until they could see the far wall looming in front of them.

"Where are we?" Lupin asked as Harry stopped to stare at a large fireplace along the wall.

"The old Guards' Hall," he answered as he turned his wand on the interior of the fireplace. After searching the soot-covered stone for a few seconds, his wand came to an abrupt stop as it pointed into one of the back corners. It looked as though some twig was propped against the wall.

It seemed out of place, but not terribly abnormal, so she was surprised when Harry reached in to grab it. When he pulled it out, she realized it wasn't a twig at all, but a wand. As he inspected it in the light, Ginny realized that she recognized it. A chill ran down her spine.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked as he stepped forward.

"A message," he replied.

"Looks like a wand."

"It is a wand. It's Josef's wand," Harry replied in a somber voice. "He's reminding me that I did the right thing."

"What?" Ron replied, vocalizing a confusion that everyone else shared. Of them, Ginny was the only one who seemed to understand the meaning behind it.

Harry gave no response. He simply whirled about, taking them back through the door they came from and down a flight of stairs. Each time they descended another level, Harry's pace seemed to increase slightly. He gave no orders or warnings. He simply strode ahead of them with silent purpose, his wand drawn and ready. Ginny worked hard to keep up with him, leaving the others to keep an eye out for danger.

There was something both impressive and troubling about Harry as he drove onward. He had become more powerful and daunting, though at the same time he had lost some of what made him who he was. She almost didn't recognize him. His mannerisms had changed. His normal uncertainty was replaced with cold efficiency. Ginny wondered if that was what he was like when angry. She'd seen him angry when he was younger, but that was when Voldemort was still around. Lots of things were different then. This new side of him was a little frightening.

They descended another set of stairs and Ginny again began to recognize her surroundings. They were headed down to the Veil Chamber again. She hesitated a step as soon as she realized this, and Harry immediately noticed. He stopped, too, just long enough to turn and look at her. She read the question in his eyes. She knew they had to do it. It was the last place either of them knew to look. If Josef wasn't there, there would be no way for them to find him. Ginny gave him a faint nod. She would follow him wherever they needed to go.

"Harry," Ron called out from behind them. "This all looks rather familiar. Tell me we're not going anywhere familiar."

Harry's face was expressionless. "We're going someplace familiar."

"And what makes you think that things are going to turn out any different this time?"

"She does, I hope," he replied flatly, looking behind Ron to where Hermione had stopped. "What do you think, Hermione?" he asked.

"I— I don't know," she replied, somewhat shaken. "I don't— There's just nothing, like it's all empty."

This answer didn't seem to be what Harry wanted to hear. "Nothing?" he said, turning to look down the very last flight of stairs. "Nothing at all?"

"Harry," Lupin called out. "What is this place? Why are we here?"

"—And why does she know any more about what's down there than you?" added Justinian.

"It's complicated," answered Harry.

"This is where it is," Valencia whispered as she walked past Harry and started down the stairs. "This is where the missing Death Gate is. That's what it all comes back to, isn't it? Josef and his friends meddled with the Gate and now they are paying the price."

"It's a little more than that," Harry replied as he began walking down the stairs to the large hall leading to the antechamber. Justinian was walking beside him and Ginny was directly behind them both. The rest of them followed her, and they quickly made their way across the large hall and descended the sloped corridor to the antechamber. Harry slowed abruptly as he came to the end of the corridor and Ginny finally caught up to him.

The antechamber was empty. She didn't really know what she expected to see. Part of her had hoped they would find Josef standing just where he had been when they left, but it now seemed foolish to think such a thing. More importantly, there was nothing at all in the small room. There was no corpse, and no sign of the impenetrable darkness that had filled the Veil Chamber on the other side of the metal doors.

Harry inched toward them. They were still open and showed no sign of damage. "What? No—" he said as he aimed the the light from his wand into the chamber. He cast a quick charm, illuminating the entire chamber for a brief moment. After the light faded he turned around to face Ginny and the others. "I don't understand... it's not—" he stammered.

Valencia stepped forward and aimed her wand into the Veil Chamber. The tip blazed forth with a brilliant red light, illuminating the chamber with an eerie crimson glow. The raised platform still stood at the very center, just as it had the last time Ginny had seen it. In its center were the bases of a pair of broken columns. Nothing else remained of them, but more importantly, nothing at all remained between them. The Veil was gone just as certainly as whatever portal it had been made to cover. Hermione and Ron had seen it as well, and they were just as confused as she was.

"You're certain this is the room it had been—" Valencia began.

"It's the same room," Harry answered. "It's just gone."

"It can't be _gone_," she replied. "You obviously don't understand the sort of magic involved with these things. You can't _move_ them. That's the whole point. They're not physical things. It's just a doorway. You can't destroy a doorway."

"I'll let you tell the thing that did it if we ever find it," Harry grumbled.

"This doesn't make any sense," Lupin commented as he walked back toward Harry. "There's nothing here. No body. No sign of anyone or anything that could have done any of this. Something happened here. These things don't just disappear, not unless they are about to appear somewhere else."

The room fell silent as everyone tried to think of what to do next. Ginny could feel the tension flowing out of Harry. He was angry and confused. He'd been preparing himself for a fight, and they'd found nothing. In the end, there was only one thing for them to do: go home. As if he was reading her thoughts, Lupin reached into his robes and pulled out one of the small pouches he'd put the Portkeys in.

"No—" Harry said sharply, "—not yet. You're right. Something happened here. Those people outside, they must have seen something that made them think it was over. That's the clue we're looking for."

He didn't wait for anyone to agree with him, and Ginny didn't wait for them to begin following him. They retraced their steps, climbing flight after flight of stairs, slowly climbing out of the depths beneath the Castle. Ginny's side ached and her legs burned with the work of keeping up with Harry. By the time they reached the rose marble room, she was nearly gasping for breath. Thankfully, Harry stopped a moment to let everyone catch up.

Once they had, they all continued on at a somewhat slower pace. Harry appeared thoughtful now. No doubt he was trying to think of just how to get one of the wizards to speak with him. Of course, the most challenging part might be finding one of them who could speak English. Harry had admitted that he barely spoke any Romanian at all.

When they finally made it back to the large entrance hall, the sun was already beginning its descent. A large beam of light was shining through the hole in the ceiling, illuminating the center of the hall. There were still a number of people huddling against the walls, but none of them paid them much heed. Harry seemed to be sizing them up, trying to pick which one would be most likely to help him.

"It's a bit ironic, really," commented Ron.

"What's that?" Ginny asked him.

"That painting over there. The one above that shabby-looking bloke. In all this destruction and rubble, the one thing that survives untouched is a painting of this placing being burnt to the ground."

"Not irony. An omen," croaked a voice from the man huddled under the painting. "It is a reminder for people like you. This city has always endured. It has existed for millennia. It has been sacked, destroyed, rebuilt, and raided again, but it has always endured. Not as if that means anything to the likes of you."

"Hold on," Harry said, spinning around to face the man. "You speak English?"

"Not only do I speak it," the man said through a rough, hoarse tone, "but I can recognize when others are speaking it without asking them if they do. It's a skill obviously beyond someone like you."

"What's all that about?" Ron asked him. "Who are we like?"

"Thieves, scavengers, carrion-eaters," the man replied. "I told them you would come. First they were stalked by the darkness and the vampires until they turned on each other, murdering their friends until they were left with no one to claw at except themselves. Then the storm came, a black wind out of the Castle bringing death and suffering. Even the evil things that stalked the night weren't safe. The others thought it was the end, but not me. I remembered the painting. I remember the stories I was told when I was young. After the storm, the pillagers and raiders will come. You are only the first, but that won't save you from your fate."

As he spoke, his voice lost much of its harsh sound. Clumsily, the man pushed himself to his feet. He was wearing a dirty cloak, which seemed to be pieced together from quite a few other garments. Its hood obscured the man's face, but from Ginny's perspective she could see that it was pale and worn beyond the man's true age. Everything about his appearance suggested he'd lived a hard life.

"We're not scavengers," Harry replied.

"Oh, then what exactly do you think you are?" the man said with a disconcerting laugh. "Heroes? Warriors? You're too late," he said, "or far too early. When the story's all told, that's the only thing different about you. You got here just late enough to return and take credit for ending horrors you never could have faced. So go," he barked, raising an arm to point toward the gate, "run home and tell them of your latest conquest. They have grown thirsty for more proof of your grandeur, no doubt."

Ginny stopped and stared in shock at the man's hand. Like his shadowed face, it was pale and the skin looked dry and cracked, but at the same time it looked _young_.

"Do I know you?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to the man. Ginny followed him, ducking slightly to try and see under the hood.

"Do you know me?" the man repeated as his body shook with rasping laughs. "Do you know me? No, no I doubt you do, but I know you. You're no different than the others. The fact that you took what others deserved does not make you special. It is just the person that you are. The thing named Voldemort was no different from any of those that came before him, and the two of you are more similar that you like to admit. You both have the same greed, the same desire to take what others want only because they want it and it fills some emptiness in your soul. You are not special, Harry Potter."

At the mention of his name, Harry stiffened. Behind him, Ginny saw everyone else react in similar manners. Harry slowly raised his wand and Ginny prepared to do the same. The shadows behind her shifted. The others were spreading out again. From the corner of her eye, she saw Valencia step forward. Justinian was circling around the opposite side, taking shelter behind one of the fallen chunks of stone.

Something changed in Harry's posture. He was suddenly alert and watchful. His eyes were locked on the cloaked man. "Who are you?" he asked.

Under the hood, Ginny saw the man smile. "You couldn't comprehend the answer," he replied smoothly. "In time, you might begin to understand."

"Is this the Seer you met?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"The Seer? Is that what he called himself?" the man replied. "He is no more a Seer than that traitorous harlot," he said, pointing a pale finger directly at Ginny. A chill ran down her spine. She didn't know who the man was, but she knew _what_ he was.

Harry's arm shot up to point at the ceiling. "Everyone, _get back!_" he shouted as the sound of grinding stone echoed through the remnants of the hall. She understood immediately what he was about to do. Harry was going to bring down the ceiling. Ginny turned to run, but in that instant the man's hand which had been pointing at her opened, then quickly tightened into a fist. As it closed, Ginny felt an invisible force wrap around her, binding her arms at her sides and locking her legs together. With the first bits of stone raining down, she felt her feet drag across the floor as she floated toward the man.

"Harry!" she screamed, hoping the ceiling was not already hurtling toward her. Harry's eyes widened in horror and his arm stiffened. A shower of dust and slivers of rock fell down on her, but nothing more. She let out a sigh of relief and felt the force constrict around her.

"Do it, Harry!" the man shouted. "Let it drop. This is what you came here to do, isn't it?" In a single, swift motion, the man pulled back his hood. His face was pale and gaunt, the skin dry and covered with dozens of small cuts, but Ginny recognized him immediately. Staring at them through a curtain of tangled hair and glowing with pale green light were Josef's eyes. Ginny heard herself gasp, but Harry didn't react at all. He was still focused on the stone ceiling.

"Let it drop," Josef repeated. "The situation could not be any better. In one instant you would accomplish so much. You want to kill me, and though you don't know it yet, you want to kill her, too."

"No," growled Harry, still focusing on his wand.

"You can't trust her, Harry," Josef insisted. "She will turn on you. It's what she does. Kill her now before you have to see what she truly is."

"You're a liar!" Harry shouted. Clenching his jaw, he raised his left hand toward the ceiling. A loud rumbling shook the air and moments later a number of enormous blocks of stone crashed down onto the ground halfway across the hall.

"You see, Harry," laughed Josef, "you don't need to be a Seer to predict the future, especially when when talking about _your_ future."

"Let go of her," demanded Harry.

"There is no punishment in this world for the crimes she has committed," Josef said, ignoring Harry's command. "Death would be an insult to the idea of justice, but not nearly so much as the fact that she still walks this world after the atrocities she has committed."

"Whoever you think she is, you're wrong!" Harry yelled, turning his wand on Josef. "She hasn't done anything."

"That does not matter," Josef snarled. "They're all the same, each one claiming they are pure and trustworthy, but it's always the same in the end. It must not continue."

Josef turned to stare at Ginny and the light in his eyes blazed. The invisible grip around her tightened until she was gasping for each breath. The pain in her shoulders and arms intensified until she felt a sharp pain slice through her forearm. Using all of her breath, she let out a scream of agony as the bones broke and twisted against her side.

Almost immediately the grip loosened and Ginny's eyes opened slightly to see a confused look on Josef's face. The light in his eyes was bright as ever, but he looked uncertain and shaken. For a moment, he looked almost frightened.

A blast of orange light flashed suddenly, and Ginny screamed again, this time out of shock more than pain. When it faded, Josef's eyes erupted with malevolent green light. Valencia was standing only feet away from him with her wand pointed directly at him.

"Didn't you teach them, Harry?" he growled. With a sharp motion, he extended an open palm toward Valencia, bathing her in brilliant yellow light. Valencia was thrown down to the ground, crying out in pain as she struggled to get away.

"Tell the world, Harry," Josef called out. "Tell them I have returned."

"I will stop you," Harry said. "This isn't the end."

"No, Harry. This isn't even the beginning, and I will make sure there never is one."

Harry raised his wand, but lowered it almost immediately. He looked confused. He was blinking his eyes and looking about as though he could not see Josef standing directly in front of him.

Then she noticed it. Josef's lips were moving. At first Ginny thought he was whispering some spell, but it took only a moment to understand what was really happening: he was speaking Parseltongue. Ginny had no idea what he was saying, but she knew that Harry did. It had the same rhythmic pattern of all of the things that Mira and Hermione and Evelyn had said.

"Let her go!" Harry shouted into the empty air.

Josef ignored him. His chanting continued and a dark black vapor seemed to collect in the air. As Josef spoke, it began swirling about him, passing around the others and picking up speed. It felt like a hot, dry wind as it whipped through her hair and howled in her ears. The Parseltongue stopped, and she suddenly felt herself drop to the ground. Josef had spread his arms wide and was staring up into the sky, letting a wisps of green vapor trail from his eyes and mix with the black whirlwind around him.

"My time has come," he shouted. "I will have what I deserve!"

Ginny heard Harry shouting her name over the scream of the wind, but there was no time to react. A deafening _clap_ broke through the air, making her wonder if the world itself was splitting beneath them. An instant later, she felt herself being thrown backwards with frightening force. There was a brief moment where she felt totally weightless, but it was cut short as she slammed against a pile of rock.

Pain shot through her body from a hundred different places. She gasped for breath and blinked away tears while she struggled to sit up. The black mist which had filled the room was now completely gone. Ginny tried sitting up again and found it harder than she thought it should be. Her body just didn't seem to obey her.

A faint tingle of panic filled her chest. Josef could still be there. She needed her wand, but she realized that she couldn't feel it in her hand. In fact, she couldn't feel her hand at all. Using every bit of concentration she had, she lifted her head to look at her right hand. Whatever relief she felt at seeing her wand still clutched in her hand was utterly obliterated by the sight of a deep cut running across her arm. A pool of blood was creeping across the floor. Turning to look at the rest of body, she realized that it wasn't the only place she was bleeding from. There was another deep cut on her leg and her back felt oddly warm and sticky.

"Harry," she called out quietly. "Harry... I've... I need some... help."

She heard other people shouting, but their voices sounded distant and hollow. Tonks was the first to arrive. Ginny blinked at her, and tried calling for Harry again. Tonks ignored her and crouched down next to her, shouting something at the others.

"Where is... Harry?" Ginny asked drowsily. "Josef might... he might..."

"Don't worry about Josef," Tonks said as Ron knelt down next to her. His face was deathly pale.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked him. "Is Josef dead?"

"I don't know, Ginny, just relax." He leaned over her and spoke slowly. "Ginny, where is the Portkey?"

"My pocket," she answered groggily. "We can't use it though. Harry's not here. Where's Harry?" she asked.

"Harry's nearby, don't worry," Ron tried to assure her.

"I need to get up," Ginny said as she struggled to move again. "I'm so cold. Why am I cold?" She raised her head, but almost immediately the world dimmed and began to spin slowly. As her head dropped, the world darkened and swirled away.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry to end things that way. I know people will want to know what happened to everyone, but don't worry. You'll know. You'll just have to wait until next chapter. Feel free to email me with comments or complaints.


	3. Delayed Interactions

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

**Delayed Interactions**

* * *

Harry's eyes blinked open and he found himself standing in the center of a dimly lit chamber. The walls curved around him, forming a rough circle stretched between a pair of doors on either side of the room. The walls and floor all seemed to be made of the same stone, though the floor looked to have been worn smooth. Sand had collected where the walls met the floor and Harry noticed a number of small holes with peculiar channels leading to them. It took him a moment to realize that the tracks had been made by snakes. Judging by the width of the paths, they were rather large. 

The room felt like a tomb. It was filled with an eerie green light, making it difficult to really see his surroundings. The wall in front of him seemed to be covered with some sort of writing, but it had been completely obscured with deep scratches. The more he looked at it, the more he began to spot patterns. There were shapes under the scratches.

The circle was the easiest to spot. The three deep notches spread around it almost completely obscured by the gouges in the rock face. He felt a slight chill as he remembered the last time he'd seen it. The notch on the bottom of the continued down the wall to what looked to be a cluster of other carvings. He inched closer to the wall, unsure of exactly what was happening. There were four smaller figures carved into the stone. One of them had not been touched at all, while the one next to it had been attacked so thoroughly that Harry could barely make out the shape of a man on the wall.

He stepped forward to get a closer look and noticed the source of the green light following him. As he turned his head, he noticed it shift as well. Everywhere he looked, the pale light followed. He walked farther along the wall, but it moved with him. His heart began racing and he felt himself break into a cold sweat. He held his hand close to his face and stared at his palm as it was bathed in bright green.

Cold reality struck him: _It was coming from him. It was coming from his own eyes._

He spun around, watching in horror as the green glow trailed his focus. _It isn't real,_ he told himself, _it's another dream._ He wanted to close his eyes and wake up, but something even more worrisome caught his eyes. Almost directly behind him, he found something he didn't even know how to describe.

A dark spot was hovering in the very center of the chamber. It looked somewhat like a small cloud of dense smoke, but it was impossibly dark. Harry approached it slowly, ignoring the danger he felt in his stomach. It was utterly black, without any discernible shape or edge. He began circling around it, hoping to understand what it might be. It seemed to him as if it were shifting slowly, changing shape and growing slightly. He took a few more steps toward it and felt a sudden and almost uncontrollable loathing of the sight of it.

He retreated immediately, filled with the desire to destroy it, whatever it was. He looked around the floor, searching for anything he might use to cause any small amount of harm to it. Scattered around the center of the room, he found the pieces of what had once been a large golden ring, as thick as a young tree and wide enough to encircle a small bed. He picked one of the pieces up, preparing to hurl it at the black spot.

The moment he looked up, however, his eyes found yet another thing he had not expected. The hefty piece of metal fell from his hand, ringing loudly off the stones below. On the far wall, lit in unsettling green tones was a large mural. After staring at it for some time, he circled around the dark void to get a better look.

It was a portrait, and though the artist had used only a few colors, the result was more than enough to fill Harry's mind with fear and confusion. The work was rough and harsh, obviously exaggerated. Her face was pale and stark, framed with wild, flame-red hair. Though her red lips were smiling, her eyes were just as red and filled a burning malice. He stared at it, not wanting to admit the obvious.

It looked like Ginny.

It was more than just a passing resemblance. The shape of the face, the way she was smiling, even the way her hair curled under her jaw matched Ginny. Only the eyes were different.

The sound of grinding stone echoed through the room. Harry spun around and found someone standing just inside one of the arched doorways. They were holding a large torch in one hand that filled the chamber with wholesome light. Harry began walking toward them immediately but slowed as he saw them stiffen as if preparing for an attack. The figure lowered the torch and Harry froze as he saw their face.

It was Ginny —or someone who looked very much like her. She was dressed strangely in a pale hooded cloak which hung loosely off her shoulders and was tied around her waist with a golden cord. She was walking toward him and he suddenly realized that her mouth was moving. She was saying something, but he couldn't hear it. He felt himself responding, yet heard nothing. It was like watching someone else's dream.

She stopped not far away from him. In the flickering torchlight, she looked just like Ginny. Harry felt a relaxing warmth filling his chest at the sight of her. With one hand, she pulled back her hood, releasing her flowing red hair as she smiled at him. Her other arm had remained stiff at her side.

Something was off. Her smile was forced and the rest of her face was stiff and tight. She wasn't acting like Ginny. Harry's eyes flicked down to her right arm and spotted green light flickering off something sharp in her hand.

An immense wave of white hot rage passed through him. His vision turned green and he was overcome with an uncontrollable hatred for the witch standing in front of him. He wanted to kill her. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted her to feel the pain she had caused. She needed to understand what her selfishness had caused. She was supposed to be better than this. How could Ginny do this?

_Ginny._

Even as the fury ripped through him, he felt himself detach. It couldn't be real. He remembered. It wasn't her. It wasn't real. It was just an illusion. Memories flashed into his mind. They had been in the Castle. They found Josef but he wasn't himself. He'd turned on them. Harry had tried to stop him, but he hadn't acted fast enough. Ginny was in danger.

He could still her in his mind. She was hurt. There was blood. He remembered the look of pain and fear in her eyes as they stared helplessly down at her body. He needed to help her. She was hurt. She needed him. He forced himself to turn away from the scene in his mind. He needed to wake up.

Slowly, Harry felt the world around him fading into existence. There was a slight ringing in his ears, but it wasn't enough to completely cover the silence of wherever he was. It couldn't be the ruined hall in Romania. Whatever he was lying on was soft and warm, not the cold stone of the Castle. He moved a little and felt the surface beneath him shift in an all too familiar way. Before even opening his eyes, he realized where he was.

"I hoped I'd never wake up in the Hospital Wing again," he groaned.

"I hoped the very same thing, Mr. Potter," answered a stern voice.

Harry's eyes opened to find Madam Pomfrey standing nearby with a small bottle of some opaque green liquid.

"Is that for me?" he asked.

"No, Mr. Potter, this is for Madam Desmoda," she answered with a frown. "Despite the fact that you were barely alive, you're just fine. Madam Desmoda has been burned severely, and—"

"Ginny!" Harry nearly shouted. "Where is she? Is she alright?"

Madam Pomfrey's frown deepened. "Relax, Mr. Potter. Miss Weasley is just across the room. She's sleeping," she said as she gave the green liquid a stir, "—though I'll not have you waking her. Her injuries are very serious."

"Will she be alright?"

The older witch glared at him as if his question had been an insult. "Yes, Mr. Potter, she'll be up and about in a few hours as long as you don't decide to drag her off into danger again. If you want to worry about someone, perhaps you should be thinking about Miss Granger. At the very least she has more time to talk to you than I do."

As she turned to walk away, Harry struggled to sit up. "What's happened to Hermione?"

"She won't say," Pomfrey replied disapprovingly. "I don't suppose you know, either? Something has happened to her arm. I don't know what it is and she won't even let me look at it. The foolish girl insists it's always been like that." She shook her head. "I'm not blind. I know the effects of a curse when I see one. Perhaps you could make yourself useful for a change and talk to her."

"Yeah," Harry replied weakly. "I might do that."

Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made a futile attempt to stand. He collapsed back onto the bed and steadied himself with an arm as the room wobbled around him.

"Are you sure he's well enough to be walking about?" Lupin asked as he stepped through the curtains around Harry's bed.

"Not at all, Remus," replied Madam Pomfrey replied as she pulled back the curtains and began walking toward the door, "but he's never listened to me before. No reason to expect it now." She disappeared a moment later, leaving Harry alone with a rather stoic Lupin.

"Where is she going?" Harry asked as he rubbed his forehead. It was warm and sore, but he wasn't thinking about it. There were too many other questions to worry about.

"I expect she's going to try and help Valencia," Lupin answered. "She's in pretty bad shape, but she refused to stay here. She's been hiding in the library for the last hour. She was... very angry."

Harry couldn't muster all that much concern for her at the moment, but he wanted to keep Lupin talking while he tried to regain his balance. "What was she angry at?" Harry asked. "I never wanted her to be there in the first place."

"No, it's wasn't that," he replied. "I think she was in a terrible amount of pain. I don't know what manner of curse it was, but the burns it produced were worse than anything I've ever seen. Her hands were the worst, but I think that is because she tried to shield herself with them. Her face and neck were only slightly better. Even her eyes were burnt. They were bloodshot and had lost all of their color. We tried to help her, but nothing worked. They just kept getting worse. Poppy gave her some potion which seemed to help a little, but then she ran off to the library. She won't even let me see her."

"Well, at least she is up and walking," he replied as he stood up and looked across the hall at the other set of closed curtains.

Lupin frowned. "I'm not so sure she's better off. Ginny's injuries were serious, but there was nothing abnormal about them. There's no telling what happened to Valencia or when it might end. I've never seen anything like it. It looked almost like the burns you'd see if a—"

Lupin's voice stopped abruptly, but Harry was no longer paying much attention to him. He slowly walked across the hall, ignoring whatever Lupin had been saying about Valencia. "She's alright then? Ginny's just sleeping? There's nothing... permanent?"

"Er, I— No," Lupin replied distractedly. "Poppy fixed her up, but... well, there was still quite a bit of blood. She said Ginny would need her rest."

Harry wasn't really listening. It didn't matter what Lupin said. He needed to see her. He needed to know that she was alright. Gaining speed, he reached the other row of beds and pulled back the curtain.

Ginny was lying on her side, only partially covered by the bed sheets. She was still wearing the clothes she'd worn under her robes, and though they were torn in many places, no blood stains remained. If it weren't for the state of her clothes and the fresh bandages wrapped tightly around her arm, waist and upper leg, he might have thought she was simply sleeping.

Harry rushed forward to take a closer look at her. Her face was pale and she was her breathing was shallow and weak. He ignored Lupin's warning and pressed his hand against her cheek. Almost immediately he felt her face twitch and saw her eyes flicker open to stare at him.

"H-Harry?" she whispered hoarsely.

He smiled at her and brushed away a few errant strands of hair. She tried to smile back, but her expression quickly filled with fear and confusion. Her eyes darted about, trying to focus on the rest of the room.

"No... we have to— to go," she murmured. Harry leaned forward to comfort her, but she only became more frightened. "No," she said in a louder voice. "Josef— It's not safe. We can't—" She winced as she pushed herself up. "We have to go! I can make it, I—" Her voice trailed off as she sat up. Her eyes seemed to freeze for a moment before rolling back into her head as she collapsed back onto the bed.

Lupin ran to the side of the bed and quickly helped Harry lay Ginny back on her pillow. "Poppy said she'd be pretty weak for some time," Lupin explained. "She wasn't supposed to wake up yet." Even as he spoke, Ginny's eyes blinked open again. This time, there was more confusion than fear.

"W-Where are we?" she asked. "Is this... St. Mungo's?"

"No, this is Hogwarts," Lupin told her.

"How— How did we get here?" she asked, her eyes rolling about as she tried to understand what had happened. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long enough," said Lupin. "A little more than an hour, I think. We brought you and Harry and the others back with the Portkeys and then Apparated back. It's not an easy thing to do while carrying an injured person. When your strength returns, you'll want to thank Justinian. He took you even though his own leg was broken."

"But... Josef— How did you escape?"

"There was nothing to escape from," Lupin replied with a shrug. "There was something like a huge explosion and we all found ourselves thrown to the ground. Of course, you and Harry seemed to get the worst of it. It only took me a few seconds to get back up, but when I did, it was as if none of it had ever happened. We did as much as we could there, but when we saw how badly you, Harry, and Valencia were injured, we used the Portkeys to get out as quickly as we could.

"After that, it got a little more complicated. Ron and Tonks Apparated back to Hogwarts immediately to get help while the rest of us tried to figure out what to do with the four of you. Justinian said you were injured too seriously to wait and he took you immediately. A minute later I took Harry and Simon Apparated with Valencia. The Aurors helped us get everyone here. You were sleeping quite soundly until Harry woke up and got impatient."

"So... everyone is alright?" she asked.

"Yes," Lupin replied with a hesitant smile. "I expect we'll all be no worse than when we left. Poppy is a little concerned about the state of Hermione's arm, but unless I'm mistaken, that's not something—"

"Hold on," Harry interrupted him. "You said that there were _four_ of us who needed to be taken back to Hogwarts. If Ron and Tonks went ahead of the rest of you, who brought Hermione back?" Lupin drew his lips into a tight line and threw a worried look at Ginny. Unfortunately, Harry was already guessing the explanation. "No one took her back," he said confidently. "She took someone else back with her."

"Harry, this isn't the time to—"

"No, it's not," Harry rebuked him. "The best time would have been an hour ago."

"It wasn't my decision," Lupin said in his defense. "I didn't want to take him, either, but Hermione wouldn't listen to any arguments."

"_Hermione?_" Harry replied in shock. "You shouldn't just trust her because she refuses to listen to you. In fact, you should trust her even less."

"How are we supposed to know that?" Lupin shot back at him. "You trusted her. You were asking her about things that no one could possibly know. Who am I to disagree now?"

Ginny was staring at them both with fear in her eyes. "Harry, what's wrong. What's happened?"

"This isn't the time to talk about it," he said in a restrained tone. Turning back to Lupin with a stern expression, he pulled out his wand and lowered his voice. "Where is he? Is he awake?"

"No," Lupin answered quickly. "He's in the old potion storeroom. It seemed like the most appropriate place."

With a frustrated huff, Harry turned back to Ginny. "Lupin and I need to go see to something, Ginny. I'll be back later. You rest for now. I'll explain everything when I get back, I promise." Ginny stared at him for a moment, then let out a deep sigh and nodded before closing her eyes.

She had probably guessed what they were talking about, but the longer Harry kept himself from saying it the easier it was to keep control of his temper. It was already bubbling dangerously and he could feel his wand tingling in his hand. As he and Lupin walked toward the small, dark corridor in the corner of the hall, he spoke just a single word:

"_Why?_"

"I told you, Harry. Hermione insisted on it. She said that if you had been conscious, you'd have agreed with her."

"I doubt it," he growled.

"She said—"

Lupin's statement was cut short as Harry reached the door at the end of the short corridor, wrenched it open and jabbed his wand into the room. He slid swiftly past the threshold and darted toward a wall, keeping his wand trained on the bed closest to the door. Lying completely still in the middle of it was Josef Kantos.

Harry wasn't sure what he expected Josef to look like, but reality didn't seem to fit any of his expectations. He was pale, but not nearly as pale as Mira or Marius had been, and he lacked any manner of dark markings or scars. Though he looked far from healthy, it would have been easy to believe he'd suffered no more than anyone might expect of someone who'd been living outside in the Romanian winter for six days.

"Hermione said there was nothing to worry about," Lupin continued. "Ron was just as worried as you are now."

"I always did like him better than Hermione," commented Harry dryly as he searched the room for something he could use to defend himself if needed.

Lupin frowned at Harry's attempt at humor. "She was very adamant. She was certain that you would agree."

"I'll admit it doesn't happen often, but Hermione was wrong." He gave up his search for anything to help him. If Josef woke up, there wouldn't be time to react. If he was going to do anything, he needed to do it now. Any number of hexes would work. Between the bed, the lamp nearby and even the stones in the wall and ceiling, there were plenty of violent ways to end a wizard's life, and yet as he tried to work out just how to do it, doubt began to creep into his mind.

He could see Josef's chest rising and falling slowly. He wasn't breathing normally, but he was breathing and that was more than Mira or Marius had been doing when he first saw them. His skin was pale, but it wasn't the same lifeless hue the others had. Of course, Evelyn had none of those signs either.

Evelyn was also still alive.

"Has anyone looked at his eyes?" Harry asked quickly.

"His eyes? No... I— Hermione, maybe, but no one else that I've seen. No one really spent that much time examining him," Lupin said. "I wouldn't even know what to look for."

"He has blue eyes," answered Harry, "light blue. If they're black, then he's as good as dead, but if they're green, then we are."

Harry stood for a moment, contemplating whether he should check or not. There were only two of them. If he was going to risk waking him, they might as well gather as many of the most powerful wizards they could. "Does he have any dark patches on his skin," he asked, "any cuts or wounds, or even any bad scars?"

"Perhaps I wasn't clear," Lupin began. "No one was willing to get close to him. Minerva is rather upset that he's even here. She's already talking to the Aurors about where they can take him. The only reason he's still here is because you hadn't woken up. Hermione was insistent that you would want him here. I have no doubt that Poppy is going to tell Minerva you're awake. Once the Headmistress knows that, she's going to want to hear a pretty convincing argument or I suspect he'll be removed in a hurry, and for good reason. We certainly can't let the governors hear that we've brought a dark wizard into Hogwarts."

Harry knew Lupin was right. There wasn't much time, and despite his previous certainty, his mind was now filled with doubt. If Evelyn could be cured, why couldn't Josef? A hundred questions ran through his mind. How long would it take? Could he convince McGonagall and the others to help him? What if he couldn't find the old wizard who'd cured Evelyn? Could he do it himself? One question kept echoing above all the others, though.

What if he was wrong?

"I need to talk to Hermione," he announced. "There may not be much time. I don't know how to save him, but if she thinks it's possible, I have to try."

Lupin looked hesitant but nodded and motioned for Harry to follow him. He stopped for a moment to close and lock the door to the room behind them before leading Harry back to the main hall of the Hospital Wing. He pointed Harry back toward Madam Pomfrey's office and began walking in the other direction. He had promised to speak with McGonagall when Harry woke up and he said he couldn't wait any longer.

As Lupin left, Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before McGonagall insisted on talking to him personally. He'd need to have some plan before then. First, he needed to figure out just what sort of state Josef was in and, with luck, Hermione would be able to tell him. As Harry walked into Madam Pomfrey's office, he was able to hear voices coming from one of the side rooms. He approached it slowly, listening to the argument between a pair of familiar voices.

"There's nothing that can be done about it," Hermione said with obvious frustration. "We've talked about this a dozen times and nothing ever changes."

"Maybe that's why we keep talking about it," Ron replied. "Something needs to change. I've seen where this is headed, and so have you. Is that something you _want?_"

"Of course it's not, but there's nothing—"

"How do you know that? You haven't even tried—"

"_I have tried everything, Ron,_" snapped Hermione. "You're acting like this is something I've been ignoring. I'm sure it's easier for you to forget about it, but you're not the one whose arm is poisoned with dark magic."

"Then why did you have to take Josef?" Ron asked. "Why not let someone else take him? I mean with your arm as bad as it is—"

"What does that matter?" she snapped.

"Well, he was... you know," Ron replied lamely. "You should probably keep your distance."

She rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to worry about, Ron. By the time I got to him he was no more evil than your shoes."

"Still, it's a bit of a gamble, isn't it? You couldn't really know that at the time. You should have let one of the others take him. You could have taken Harry."

"Of course," Hermione mumbled, "as if that would be so much safer."

"It couldn't be worse than Josef. How many people did he kill?" Hermione began speaking, but Ron's voice quickly rose over hers. "Yes, I know," he said, "it wasn't really him. Just like it wasn't really Evelyn that tried to kill Ginny. Nobody really knew what happened and it wouldn't have made much difference who he really was if you were dead. At least I know what to expect when you and Harry are together."

"What?" Hermione asked, barely hiding the panic in her voice.

"Well, he hasn't been possessed by some evil spirit from the world of the dead, has he?" replied Ron. "What's the worse that could happen? I know the two of you haven't been getting on very well lately, but a little row is better than letting yourself be possessed by dark magic. I'll admit that Harry's been a bit off, but it's not that bad."

Ron sounded as though he were joking, but Hermione didn't respond immediately. Instead, there was an awkward silence. Harry crept forward, ignored the guilt at listening to his friends argue and strained to hear what she would say.

"Ron, Harry and I—" Hermione started. She paused and Harry suddenly felt somewhat exposed, worried that at any moment someone might walk in and see him. "He's not the same wizard we knew at Hogwarts. He's... I'm worried about him."

Ron's response to the sudden change in topic sounded concerned and uncertain: "What do you mean? You can't expect him to be the same wizard after everything he's been through. I'm not the same, and neither are you. He still trusts us."

"It's not that I don't trust him," Hermione backpedaled. "I do, it's just— He's more powerful now. I worry that he might... lose control."

"Were you not watching what just happened today?" replied Ron. "If anything, he's got even more control now than he used to. If he wanted power or fame, he could have it. He's refused all of it. Hell, if he wanted other women, he could have them too. Of course, Ginny would kill him," he added quickly, "but until then he'd have no problems."

Hermione's voice was stiff and forced. "I'm not saying he's corrupt. I'm just saying— He's a good wizard, Ron. I just don't know what sort of wizard he's going to become. I hope he'll still be himself, but I just don't know."

"Well, you didn't have a problem telling him about your arm," Ron said, sounding only a little bitter. "If you were worried about him, I don't know what that says about me."

"Nothing, Ron," she answered, sounding very frustrated and tense. "I didn't tell Harry anything. I only told a Healer at St. Mungo's. Harry found out by _eavesdropping_." The emphasis on the last word resurrected his guilt and nervousness. _She knew he was there._

"That's quite a bit of a coincidence, isn't it?" challenged Ron. "It's a large hospital. Harry just happened to be walking by the very same office where you were talking with a Healer?"

Harry had quietly stepped into the doorway and luckily found Ron and Hermione very preoccupied with each other. Ron hadn't noticed that he was there.

"It wasn't a coincidence," announced Harry. "I went there to speak with Evelyn. She was the one who told me that Hermione was there. A nice Healer pointed me in the right direction. I didn't know why she was there. I just needed to speak with her."

Ron spun around quickly at the first sound of Harry's voice. "You're awake," he said with a rather forced smile, apparently trying to pretend he hadn't been arguing with Hermione just seconds before Harry spoke up.

"He's been awake for a while," she said flatly, "haven't you, Harry?"

Harry ignored her implied accusation and quickly explained that he'd woken up some time ago and talked to Ginny and Lupin. Ron perked up when he heard that Ginny had seemed to be doing better.

"Is Lupin still talking to her?" he asked. "Pomfrey wouldn't let us get near her earlier. If she's awake now, there's no real harm if we step in, is there?"

Harry quickly explained that Lupin wasn't talking to Ginny and that he'd gone to talk with McGonagall. "We need to figure out what to do," he said.

Ron gave him a strange look. "Do about what?"

"Lupin told me Josef was here. I went to see him." Ron and Hermione didn't respond. They just stared back at him blankly. "Why did you bring him back?" he asked Hermione. "Why were you certain that was what I wanted?"

"He's not being controlled anymore," she said.

"How can you know that?"

She shifted uncomfortably and looked back and forth between Ron and Harry. "I... I can feel it, Harry. You already know that."

"But you didn't feel it before he attacked us either," argued Harry. "We had walked within feet of him and you didn't notice anything."

"I was distracted. I wasn't expecting—"

"You didn't say anything. You didn't give us any warning at all. How can you say that it's safe because you can't feel anything when you never felt anything in the first place?"

Hermione scowled at him. "I _did_ feel him, Harry," she snapped. "I _tried_ to warn you, but he wouldn't let me."

"And you're certain that he's not doing that right now?"

"Yes."

Harry ran his hand through his hair and began pacing in frustration. "I hope you understand why that's not really all that convincing at the moment."

"I don't really care what you think, Harry," she said angrily. "Why should I listen to you? You're the one lurking in doorways and listening to private conversations. You were as close to Josef as Ginny was. She nearly lost an arm. Valencia was covered in severe burns. Even Justinian broke his leg. You just dropped to the ground like you'd fallen asleep. Can you explain that?" Harry paused in his pacing but said nothing. He couldn't.

"And yet, you want me to explain myself?" she continued. "I don't know why I know he's no danger to us, and I don't like you trying to blame me for your change of heart. If you didn't already believe me, Josef would be dead. That's what you set out to do and you'd have done it just now if you still thought it was necessary." Ron stood by her, watching passively.

"You told Lupin that I'd agree with you."

"And you do," she said confidently. "Evelyn got better, Harry. I have to believe that it's possible for him to be cured as well."

"I think I understand now why you'd think that," announced a new voice behind Harry. He whirled about, drawing his wand and pointing it at the source.

Valencia Desmoda was standing in the doorway. Her face was paler than normal, with a slightly waxy sheen to it, but any burns had disappeared. The only possible evidence was in her eyes. They were an eerie pale blue color that made them look almost silver. They were fixed on Hermione's darkened arm.

"Is that a souvenir from your previous visit to Romania?" she asked in a silky voice. "Is that why you ran off before finishing the job last time?" Hermione scowled and turned away. She snatched a black satin glove from a nearby table and slipped her arm into it.

"No, it's not," Harry answered for her. "This is a private matter."

"I wonder if the Headmistress would agree," Valencia replied. "At least I understand the reason for the glove and why you brought her with you. Fighting fire with fire, are we Harry? Not a bad strategy."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. "It's not like that. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come now, Harry. Do you think I would forget so quickly? I was the one who found Miss Franklin and Mr. Lipton. Those memories are not the sort to fade quickly. I know what I saw, and so do you. You are wise to use it to your advantage, but you cannot deny her fate forever."

"Her fate?" Ron said. "You want us all to just give up?"

"I am merely being realistic, Ron," she replied. "You'd do well to do the same thing. We all know where this story ends. It's already started. You never should have let her bring him back here. If I'd have known what she was hiding under that glove, I don't think I would have let her come back here either."

Ron tried to reply, but she quickly waved her wand, silencing him immediately. "The Headmistress is coming down to the Hospital Wing. She is going to want to hear how you're planning to fix all of this. It's time to make some tough decisions, Harry."

She turned quickly and walked away with her dark hair flowing behind her. When Harry turned back to his friends, their moods were noticeably sour. Ron had apparently lost quite a bit of his appreciation of Valencia and Hermione looked downright livid.

Outside the office Harry could hear voices. Ron and Hermione were talking in hushed tones and paying little attention to him. It was as good of a time as any to slip away.

Walking into the main hall of the Hospital Wing, Harry found Ian Chatham and Zoe Elderbridge standing near the doorway leading to the old potion room. Justinian was nearby, looking rather tense. Bandages were still wrapped around his thigh, but he didn't seem to be bothered by them. Valencia had taken position along the opposite wall, sitting in the shadows between a pair of large windows. The sound of still more people echoed into the room from the doorway at the other end of the hall.

"He's just the same as I left him," announced Madam Pomfrey as she emerged from the corridor guarded by the Aurors. "I don't know if that's good news or bad—"

At first, Harry thought the sudden halt in her comment had been caused by the sight of him up and walking around. He quickly discovered that he was wrong.

"Valencia," she called, sounding rather shocked. "I came looking for you, I have... another potion to—" Her voice trailed off again as she crossed the room toward Valencia. "Your skin... it's... _healed,_" she said. Harry found Madam Pomfrey's reaction more surprising than the actual results. He'd seen loads of people scalded and burnt while working with cauldrons. Potions and salves to remedy the damage were common.

"The potion worked well," Valencia said dismissively. "The pain disappeared almost immediately. It seems the curse wasn't nearly so bad as we feared."

"I've treated more burnt students than I care to think of," Madam Pomfrey replied with a little condescension, "but none of them with results as severe as yours. That potion has never worked that well before. I had mixed another, but... I couldn't find you."

"The first one worked well enough," Valencia insisted. "I was very eager to see how the others were doing.

Madam Pomfrey stopped and flashed an annoyed look. "Oh? Are you a Healer and a librarian now?"

If this angered Valencia, she didn't show it at all. "No, but I have seen enough magical injuries to know which are most troubling."

"And Miss Granger? Did you see her?"

"You don't have to worry about Miss Granger," Valencia said with a smile. "I'm sure Harry will take care of her, won't you, Harry?" She turned and stared at him with almost colorless eyes.

"Yes, well I'm afraid she might need more than a good friend to heal that curse," Madam Pomfrey said as she turned and walked into her office. Harry was afraid he was going to have to deal with the confrontation between her and Hermione, but she reappeared a moment later with a small bottle of clear liquid. Handing it to Harry, she told him, "Since you weren't willing to let Miss Weasley sleep, the least you can do is help her get better. See that she drinks all of that before she even thinks of getting out of bed." Harry barely had a hold of the bottle before Madam Pomfrey was walking off toward the corridor flanked by Aurors.

Harry looked down at the potion in his hand. She had known that he'd want to follow her and given it to him just to keep him there. It worked. With a sigh, he walked over to Ginny's bed and crouched down to gently tap her shoulder. Her eyes blinked open. A smile spread across her face, but it shrank a little at the sight of the bottle in his hand.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I have no idea, but it's supposed to make you feel better."

She sat up a little bit, then steadied herself and blinked her eyes a bit before reaching for the bottle. She drank it all and handed the bottle back to Harry with a shrug of indifference. Just as he stood up, the doors on the other side of the hall swung open. Professor McGonagall and Lupin strode into the room followed by Tonks and Simon.

"Where is Poppy?" asked the Headmistress.

"She just went in to check on him," answered Chatham, as he and Zoe Elderbridge abandoned their positions at the doorway and began walking toward the center of the hall. "Valencia is here as well," he said waving an arm toward the shadows across the room.

"And Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley?"

"We're here," Hermione said, walking out of the office with Ron right behind her.

"Alright then, Potter," McGonagall addressed him, "what do you plan to do with Mr. Kantos?"

"I need to know if he's a danger to—"

"No, Harry," interrupted the Headmistress, "you need to find a place to take him. I cannot let him —or whatever he may be— stay here while we wait to see if we've brought dark wizard into Hogwarts. The governors can't learn of it. This is a school, not a hospital or a prison. I can't let you keep him here and I won't have you kill him in this castle. We have quite enough ghosts as it is."

"There may not be a choice," said Harry. "If he wakes up and he's not himself—"

"Then you'd best find someplace to take him, and quickly," she replied sternly.

"St. Mungo's won't take him," Simon interjected.

"What am I supposed to do?" Harry asked helplessly. "Take him to the _Leaky Cauldron_? I don't have anywhere else to go."

McGonagall was unmoved. "That is not my problem. I am more than happy to help mend whatever injuries you have, but after that I must see to the safety of this school. He cannot stay."

"If St. Mungo's won't take him, no one will. Am I supposed to leave him out in the wilderness in the middle of winter?"

"The Shrieking Shack," Ginny suggested in a weak voice. Harry turned around and found her sitting on the side of her bed looking slightly dizzy.

"That's hardly better than Hogwarts," commented Lupin. "If anything went... _wrong_, Hogwarts wouldn't be safe."

"If things go badly, _nowhere_ will be safe," said Harry. He immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. The room became utterly silent and Harry felt as though everyone were staring at him, waiting for him to make some sort of pronouncement about how he might prevent this. His continued silence only deepened the seriousness of the situation.

"Is it that bad?" McGonagall asked with a hint of fear in her eyes.

"I— I don't know," he replied. "He... destroyed an entire city."

The sound of scuffling feet suddenly drew their attention to the small corridor leading to the old potion room. Madam Pomfrey was standing in the doorway and staring at them with wide eyes.

"He— He moved," she said in a panicked voice. "I think he's waking up."

Harry bolted for the door and heard a number of people following close behind him. He ran the length of the corridor in just a few strides and clutched at the arched doorway to help stop himself. Throwing himself into the dimly lit room, he surveyed the situation.

The walls were all made of heavy stone, but they were all completely flat, with the only shelves made of old, cracked wood. When he had been running from the Brotherhood, he'd gotten very good at improvising ways of defending himself, but this was entirely different. He didn't need to run or hide. He needed to find some way of stopping Josef if he began attacking them.

Justinian was the next to round the corner. His wand was drawn and already trained on Josef's bed. With impressive quickness and agility, he slipped past Harry and took shelter in a nearby corner, never taking his wand off Josef.

"You're sure he's himself?" Justinian asked tensely.

"No," Harry answered distractedly as he searched for anything that might be considered deadly. For a castle that was filled with suits of armor and all manner of bizarre and dangerous objects, the small room felt almost like someone's idea of a cruel joke. The walls were bare and the room was empty except for a pair of rudimentary beds, one of them abandoned since Marius Lipton had laid in it. Nothing else was left except for an odd assortment of junk strewn about the corners.

"So, if he's not—"

"Then your wand isn't going to do much good," Harry told him quickly. "All I've ever managed to do was make it angry. If it comes to that, then aim your wand for the ceiling. It may be our only choice."

Reluctantly, Justinian turned his wand up and focused intently on the heavy stones in the ceiling. Lupin stood in the doorway with his wand as Tonks and Simon slipped into the room. Simon crouched in the corner, mirroring Justinian while Tonks stood next to him with her wand held out in front of her like a shield.

Harry stood against the wall not far from Justinian. The others remained near the door, on the opposite side of Josef's bed. Harry hoped it would make it a little harder for Josef to attack all of them, though it wouldn't do much to help him protect everyone else. Collapsing the ceiling would kill Josef, but with the room being so small, it would likely kill all of them as well. The room's contents were infuriatingly worthless: a spent candle, a small pile of shattered glass, a small flimsy table, a dusty old broom, and a couple of beaten up books. He didn't have time to look for anything else.

"I need a weapon," Harry called out, hoping someone might see or fetch something worthwhile.

Lupin was the first to respond: "Your wand, Harry."

"Magic doesn't work," he shouted back, fearing Josef might wake at any moment. "I need something physical."

"Use your wand," he said again. "Make something physical."

Of course. He didn't need it to last long. He just needed something quick. Scanning the room he spotted the old broom lying along the far wall. With a flick of his wand, it jumped into his hand. With another, it shook violently and put off dark fumes. When the smoke cleared he was holding a long, silver sword with a coiled hilt. He took no time to admire his handiwork and immediately tossed it into the air. Catching it with his wand, he held it directly over Josef so that its glittering point rested against his chest.

Harry heard a sharp gasp and saw Ginny standing inside the room, just out of reach of Lupin. He was reaching for her, but she continued to take walk unsteadily toward Josef's bed.

"Harry," she spoke softly, "be careful. We don't know if—"

"We can't risk it, Ginny. Now, please, don't get any closer."

"I need to know, Harry," she whispered. "I need to know why I'm special. I need to know why it won't hurt me."

"It _did_ hurt you."

"It didn't mean to. It was a mistake. I could see it in his eyes."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about it," said Harry.

"He's not like the others, Harry," she insisted. "Josef was still there. He was still fighting. We have to give him a chance."

"I'd like to give him a chance, but I'm not willing to risk your life to do that. He wouldn't want that either. When he wakes up, I need you to promise me that you won't try anything foolish like you did this afternoon."

Ginny never responded. Her eyes were locked on Josef. When Harry looked down at him, he saw that Josef's arm had moved. A moment later, he heard Josef take in a sharp breath and he gripped tightly at his wand, making the sword over Josef's chest shiver threateningly. The room became completely silent as everyone stood and waited for something to happen. Josef's eyes twitched slightly behind his eyelids. He was waking up.

Harry's throat felt dry and tight as he watched for the Josef's reaction. Despite her earlier insistence, Ginny was backing away slowly. Harry began to fear the worst. Hermione was standing just outside the door, but he wasn't willing to take his eyes off Josef. A split second of hesitation might be all it would take to doom them all.

Josef's eyes fluttered weakly before closing again. When they opened a moment later, Harry still didn't know what was happening. In the dim light it was difficult to see exactly what color they were. All he could really see was that they didn't seem to be black, though that did absolutely nothing to change the situation. He didn't want to wait any longer. He might not get another chance, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to kill Josef until he knew for certain.

Josef's head shifted a little and his body went suddenly rigid. His breathing began speeding up, making the sword quiver. There was no more time. If Josef was still being controlled by that thing, then every second he waited put them all in even more danger. He knew what he had to do. Concentrating on the sword, he prepared to thrust it downward at the first sign of danger. When he didn't think he could wait any longer, Josef woke up, his bright blue eyes staring at the sword pointing down at his chest.

"That's a bloody dangerous looking sword," he said hoarsely.

Harry felt numb. He suddenly realized that he had no idea what to do. Josef blinked groggily at the lamp near his bed and smiled at the group of visitors at the door before turning his attention back to sword threatening to end his newly recovered life.

"That looks really sharp," he said as he struggled to raise an arm to touch it. "A bit excessive, really. A simple knife or dagger would have been enough." He turned to look at Harry. "Typical. You always did have a tendency to overreact."

Harry swirled his wand slightly and the sword hovered away from Josef and dropped to the stone floor with a metallic clatter. Josef closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Josef."

"Thanks, Harry," he responded wearily. "If I didn't know you better I'd almost think you didn't want me here."

Harry felt a slight smile tugging at his mouth. "Not at all. It's just how they greet visitors here."

"Charming place," Josef commented. "Where is it?"

"You're in Hogwarts," answered Lupin. "This is one of the rooms in the Hospital Wing."

Josef's eyes rolled about, looking at the room around him. "Of course," he croaked. "The room where we saw Marcus's son."

"How did I... " Josef began. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before continuing in an uncertain, confused voice. "I didn't come here, did I? I... I was brought here? There were... There were others. More than just the four— but that doesn't—"

"Yes, we came back for you," Ginny said. Josef turned quickly toward her voice and Harry caught a brief flash of fear and guilt in his expression.

"You— What?" he asked her in confusion. "But— Didn't you— I thought you left? I— I saw you leave, or— Did you leave?"

"Yes, we left, but we came back to—" Harry cut himself off, searching for a better way to explain things. "I couldn't leave you like that. I came back to fix it."

Josef let out a string of laughter that quickly turned into dry coughing. "You came back to kill me?" he asked. "And I was actually proud of you for a moment. I thought you had come back to—" He stopped to take in another deep breath. "You failed completely the first time, but out of loyalty, you came back —bringing even more of your friends— to save me, by _killing_ me." He began laughing, only to leave himself coughing and gasping for breath again.

"What? What's funny?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm sure," Josef said in a raspy voice. "It's just that— How in the world have you lived this long, Harry? That has to be the bloody stupidest plan I've ever heard."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

That should make some of you quite happy. But honestly, you didn't think I was done with Josef, did you? He's one of the best characters. He's so fun and sarcastic and plays off Harry. I couldn't kill him. What kind of monster do you take me for?

Beyond Josef, there are some more answers here, if you can fish them out of the dialogue. There will be even more in the next chapter, so those of you hoping to get a better understanding of what is happening have something to look forward to.

_And a note for eager readers: _The next few chapters may take a little longer than usual (though I don't know how long you think "usual" is). Beyond the flood of theater-worthy movies (including OotP) and the impending "Deathly Hallows", I've got a bit of a vacation and my normal busy summer schedule. That means more fun, but less time for writing. Stand by and be patient. The story isn't dead. It's just slow. It'll pick up again this fall (once everyone is finished discussing DH to death).


	4. Friendly Confrontations

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

**Friendly Confrontations**

* * *

"Three days, Potter," McGonagall told him sternly. "After that, if he's not gone, I'll call the Aurors to remove him." 

"Hermione was right. He's not dangerous," argued Harry.

"Yes, well that might be a lot more convincing if you hadn't left to kill him six hours ago. Not more than ten minutes ago you were saying that he had destroyed a city. Now you're saying he's harmless."

"He's far from harmless," Harry corrected her, "and I'm not saying we're not in danger, we're just not in danger from him.

"And how can you know that?" she challenged. "How can you be certain?"

"I— I don't know," Harry replied lamely. "Hermione was convinced that he was himself. I didn't know what to think but now that I've seen him for myself, I'm convinced as well."

McGonagall gave him a stern look. "Well, I'm afraid that I'm not. I'd love to help you, Potter, but there is more to think about than just you. I cannot risk the safety of Hogwarts. I will do what I can, but this school must remain a safe refuge. Students are returning at the end of the week, but there is still some time." She stepped closer to Harry and spoke very seriously: "Is Hogwarts safe?"

"It is," he told her, "for now. I can't say much more than that at the moment."

"And when will you be able to say more?" she pressed him. "This is hardly the time for secrets."

"I don't have the answers. If we have any shot of understanding just what is happening and how much danger we're all in, then the answers are lying in a bed at the end of that corridor," he said, pointing toward the corridor behind him and the Aurors blocking its entrance. "I'm just as eager as you to get them, so the longer they stand there, the longer we all wait to understand what's happening."

McGonagall waved a hand at the pair of Aurors as Harry turned to walk away. "There is one other matter," she said before he could leave.

He tried not to sound impatient. "Yes?"

"I'm interested in Miss Granger. You said that Mr. Kantos has all the answers, yet Hermione knew enough to save him when you did not. How could she know such things? Valencia has already started asking similar questions, though hers are just as focused on the strange injury Poppy found on her arm. I assume it is not a coincidence. I also assume that you know more about it than you're telling anyone."

He took a deep breath and searched for a response. "Even if I told you everything I knew," he eventually replied, "you'd understand it no more than you do right now. At the moment, I have more pressing matters on my mind."

He turned quickly and made his way to the dark corridor before McGonagall or anyone else could delay him any more. The chaos of the earlier confrontation with Josef had filled most of the Hospital Wing and instead of cooling, it seemed to only get more intense by the minute. The Aurors were abandoning both their duties and sleep to learn what was happening. Harry had successfully avoided all of them and only talked to McGonagall out of necessity. He needed to speak with Josef. He needed to know what was happening and whether he'd just lied to the Headmistress.

As he reached the very end of the corridor, Harry found Justinian standing against the door to the old potion room where they had left Josef. He hadn't seemed to notice Harry and was still staring vacantly at his wand. Harry could just barely see his lips moving but no sound was coming out of them.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Justinian's eyes darted toward Harry and stared at him. Beyond that small reaction, he remained utterly still. His hands were frozen in place, his fingers holding his wand precariously and his head lowered in concentration. It looked rather uncomfortable, and it made Harry feel uncomfortable in response. Just as he started to speak again, he heard Justinian's voice cut through the tension.

"I would have done it," he said softly. "I think I wanted to do it." He lifted his head slightly and Harry saw the conflict behind his eyes. "I wanted to kill him. What does that mean?"

Harry found himself completely unprepared for the question. "I— It doesn't mean anything," he stammered searching for some better explanation. "We didn't know. We had to protect ourselves."

"Is that how I am supposed to justify it?" he asked. "Is it supposed to be that easy? It's alright because I was afraid?"

"It's alright because in the end, you did the right thing."

Justinian stifled a bitter laugh. "Did I? How am I to tell? I don't even know what is right and wrong anymore. Should I just close my eyes and do as I'm told?"

"No, you should open your eyes and follow your heart, like you just did," Harry told him. It felt odd trying to reassure a wizard he barely knew, and yet he couldn't help but see a little of himself in the man in front of him. He remembered thinking the same thing when he joined the Brotherhood. "You've got to trust yourself. You're a good wizard."

"Am I?" he asked, looking less than sure of himself. "I always told myself I was. I convinced myself that was all I needed to be, but I'm not so sure anymore." He slid down the door until he was crouching near the floor with his arms hanging limply at his sides.

"I've loved magical creatures since I was a boy. My parents used to read my stories about them. I loved them all, but my favorites were always the oldest tales. You know, the ones so old that no one really believes them anymore." For a moment he looked up at Harry and he could see the light of excitement in Justinian's eyes.

"They always had this amazing mysterious appeal to them. They were just stories, but I knew they had been true once. I used to dream about what it must have been like, you know, to live at that time, to live with such wondrous things." A faint smile spread across his face. "When I left Hogwarts, I began searching the world for the myths I'd loved as a child."

Slowly, the excitement faded from his eyes, replaced with sadness and despair. "Well, it seems I've found one, but it's not like the stories I remember my parents reading to me. It's not what I thought it would be like. It's so much larger than I am. I—" Justinian stopped and looked over his shoulder for a brief moment before turning back toward Harry.

"I almost did it, Harry," he whispered. "So many lives, and I— I almost—"

"But you didn't," Harry interrupted. "You made the right decision. If things had gone badly, you were prepared to do what needed to be done. You saw what it was capable of. If I couldn't stop it, someone needed to."

"I— I don't—" stammered Justinian. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. I... I never thought I'd have to... It's not what I thought it would be. I didn't know." He looked at Harry with wonder. "Your entire life has been an adventure. Why— How do you do it?"

"I've never really had much of a choice," Harry replied. "It's just my life. I didn't ask for any of this."

Justinian lowered his gaze. "I suppose none of us really do. Still, I wish I had never left Britain. I could have ran an owlery or worked at a unicorn sanctuary." He slowly stood up again and pocketed his wand. "I wish I didn't have to know... what an adventure truly is." He shrugged wearily. "Of course, if I wasn't here, someone else would be in my place. Perhaps they would not have shown my restraint."

"I guess we all have a part to play."

Justinian stared past Harry and down the corridor toward the rest of the Hospital Wing. "I'm sure you're right. In the end, that's really all we have. I just wish I had a little more choice in mine. Too late to fight that now. No point, I guess," he muttered almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

"I've tried," Harry told him, trying to sound a little light-hearted. "It's a lot of work for nothing."

"You're going to talk to him?" Justinian said, glancing over his shoulder at the door behind him. Harry nodded. "I've got things I should do but, if he—" Justinian began, then stopped himself. He started walking away, then paused and turned around. "Tell him... tell him I'm sorry, you know, if he ever... ever asks about it."

"I don't think he even—" Harry tried to say, but before he could finish Justinian had already turned the corner. Suddenly, Harry was alone in the corridor and felt a slight tingle of apprehension. What if McGonagall was right? Could he really be certain that Josef was back to normal? He pushed the thoughts from his mind. If he wasn't there was little he could do now. Just as he'd told Justinian, he would have to accept it and do whatever needed to be done. Gathering his confidence, he reached for the handle to the door and pushed it open.

"Good evening, Harry," Josef greeted him with a dry voice. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding the sword Harry had transfigured earlier. He held the hilt confidently in one hand and rested the blade on the other, inspecting it against the light of the nearby lamp.

"This is fine work," he commented, "much better than I've seen from you in the past. In fact, I'd say it's as good as anything I've ever seen." He turned it over and gingerly held the edge up to the light. "And what was it before? A torch? Bedpost?"

"A broomstick," answered Harry. "One made for sweeping, not flying."

"A broomstick," Josef repeated with an appreciative nod. "It would have been much harder if it was for flying. Still, this is excellent work." He gave it an appraising look and then swung it in a wide arc through the air. "It is a bit ostentatious considering the situation. A simple dagger would have sufficed, or even a rusty iron spike, and yet, under immense pressure and immediate need, you crafted this."

"I didn't think about it," Harry replied. "I just did it."

"Yes, you certainly did. I find that rather interesting. I wonder if you'd have been as successful if you _had_ thought about it." He held the sword level and inspected the gleaming blade. "The design is flawless, almost beautiful. I'd like to think that even if I had not seen you preparing to skewer me with it I would recognize it as your work. It's simple, utilitarian design seems almost entirely unaware of the fact that it is made of metal polished so perfectly that no one could possibly ignore it. The hilt, I feel, is a particularly nice touch."

Flipping the sword around gracefully, he presented the hilt of the sword. Harry hadn't really taken a long look at the sword before, and now he found himself confused by what he saw. The handle had the appearance of a pair of golden ropes wound around the blade, but upon closer inspection, he noticed they were not braided but scaled. The scales were flecked and polished to make a faintly serpentine pattern. At the very end, the hilt separated forming an empty circle and crafted to appear as a snake devouring its own tail.

Harry recoiled in disgust. Unbidden, visions of the Chamber of Secrets rushed back to him. He remembered the slain Basilisk and the image of Ginny lying on the floor. He closed his eyes quickly, but they didn't disappear. Pillars towered over him, carved to look like enormous snakes just like the one forming the hilt of the sword. They formed a corridor and at the very end of them, he could see a figure in a glowing white gown. It turned and ran quickly, bright red hair flowing behind it as it ran.

"I... I don't know why that's there," he said, rubbing his eyes to chase away the visions. "I didn't try to—"

"No, I never believed you did," Josef said, staring at Harry with a strange curiosity, "but you do know why the snake is there. The dreams haven't stopped, have they?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied sharply. "The Chamber of Secrets has nothing to do with this."

Josef froze and slowly laid the sword on the bed. "The Chamber of Secrets? You still have dreams about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry felt his throat tighten. "I— Yes, but..." he stammered. "Isn't that what you meant?"

"You've always had dreams about snakes, Harry. You told me they would stop once you were more comfortable with the fact that Voldemort was gone." He leaned forward a little and lowered his voice. "These dreams about the Chamber, have they changed recently?"

"It's nothing," Harry insisted. "They're not even dreams. They're just memories."

Josef picked up the sword and showed Harry the hilt again. "They look like pretty strong memories."

"Memories of what?"

Harry spun around and found Ginny standing in the doorway. She didn't look quite as pale as she had before and she seemed to be leaning against the arched entryway more out of a desire to look casual than a real need for support.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Harry asked quickly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you a Healer now?" she shot back. "What are you two looking at?"

She tried to lean around Harry and he took a small step toward her. "It's nothing, really," he said. Ginny ignored him and slipped past him more agility than he thought she should really have, considering the fact that she'd been unconscious an hour ago.

Once around him, she came to an abrupt stop. "Did Harry do that?" she asked.

Harry tried to think of how he was going to explain it to her, but when he finally turned around, the sword was gone. Instead, Josef was holding a something that looked like a short spear made of silver. Like Ginny, Harry was struggling to understand just what it meant.

"No, this is actually my work," Josef said calmly as he inspected it. Harry blinked at it a couple times, trying to understand what had happened.

"How... did you do that?" he finally asked.

Josef shrugged. "Like this." He held the spear tightly and stared intently at it. It shook slightly, then one side shortened and curled in on itself. A second later, he was holding a magnificent walking cane made of gleaming silver inlaid with gold. With it in one hand, he stood up and bowed politely toward Ginny.

She was just as shocked as Harry. "You— You can do that? Without a wand?"

He smiled and lifted the cane, leaving himself somewhat unsteady on his feet. He stared at it for a moment, then ran his finger along the length of it. He stopped when he reached the handle, and shook it firmly. Before Harry even understood what had happened, the cane had become an umbrella made with a sparkling, silvery cloth.

Josef smiled at both of them. "Of course, Harry didn't even notice the lamp," he said with a nod toward the small table near his bed. Instead of the rather ordinary lamp which had been there before Josef woke up, the lamp which sat on the table was now rather ornate and made of polished black metal.

"It seems that my ordeal has left me with some unexpected symptoms, " he said, tapping the umbrella lightly and turning it into a silver cloak with gold trim. "Sadly, it's less impressive than you might hope," he commented sadly. "I've been trying to turn it into a bouquet of flowers. I didn't have these problems a few minutes ago. I wouldn't be surprised if I can't even turn it back into a broom."

He held up the cloak, closed his eyes and reached out to touch it with a single finger. The cloak began spinning quickly, twisting itself into a solid shape. A sharp _crack_ split the air, forcing Harry to look away. When he turned back, the cloak was gone, replaced by a large snake with glimmering metallic scales.

Ginny let out a sharp gasp and clutched at Harry's shoulder. He didn't know what scared him more, the snake coiling itself around Josef's arm or the disturbing coincidence of the imagery. Instead of forcing himself to make a decision, he pulled out his wand and flicked it toward the snake.

"_Evanesco!_" he shouted.

With an angry hiss, the snake's body glowed bright orange then disintegrated and swirled away like a pile of sand caught in a whirlwind. Even after it was gone, Josef still looked pale and a little shaken

"Thanks for that," he said weakly. "It's getting worse than I thought. I've seen children with better control," he added with a stiff laugh. "I suppose I'll stop any more foolish attempts at magic until I'm able to get a new wand."

"Why not use this one?" Harry said as he pulled a second wand from his robes. Josef's eyes widened immediately at the sight of his wand.

"You— You found it?" he said as he reached for it. "I apologize for all the horrible things I said about you earlier."

Harry and Ginny exchanged confused glances. "Er, what do you mean?" he asked. "You haven't said anything horrible about me."

"Oh, right," Josef said with a smile. "It was just in my head, then. Well, no need to apologize then, is there?" He held the wand in one hand and inspected it with all of the happiness of child receiving a birthday gift. "I'm sorry that it took me so long to say this, but thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome. I didn't know just what I was doing, but I knew I had to try."

Josef nodded. "I would have told you that it was foolish and far too risky, yet at the same time I hoped that this would not be the first time that you would actually heed my advice. I am thankful," he said in a more solemn tone, "though I don't know which I'm more thankful for: that you came to save me or that you failed."

"Both, then," said Harry. "Just make sure you don't find yourself in the same situation again. I've been getting better. I might not fail next time."

"Perhaps not," laughed Josef. "And I suppose Harry is not the only one who deserves some thanks for heroics," he said, turning toward Ginny. "Though I like your methods even less than Harry's, I can't deny that without you, I wouldn't be here."

Ginny shrugged and returned a crooked smile. "It wasn't really the way I had hoped for it to go. It's a memory I could do without."

"Then let's not dwell on it," he said brightly. "I didn't hear any explosions before your arrival, so I'll assume your escape from bed rest was either covert or planned. Of the two, I would have to guess the latter. Is there something we can help you with?"

Ginny smiled and leaned against the wall. "They all want to know how you're doing."

Josef tossed her a skeptical look. "So they sent in the most injured person they could find?"

"They didn't send in anyone," she replied. "Ron and Hermione are having some row in the corridor. Lupin and Valencia are in Pomfrey's office, and McGonagall is arguing with the Aurors. I got tired of listening to them bicker and did it myself."

"Shouldn't the Healer be the one to check on me?"

"She's trying to talk to McGonagall about that," Ginny said lazily. "I think she's frightened of you."

Josef stared up at the ceiling and smiled mischievously. "Well, in that case, tell her that I'm feeling much better now that I have devoured Harry's soul and awakened thousands of dark creatures to spread death and terror across the British countryside."

"At least my soul's already been devoured," Harry commented dryly as Ginny gave Josef a disapproving look. She quickly turned it on him, but he just shrugged. "I'm tired. I need a holiday."

She narrowed her eyes at both of them. "This hardly seems like the time to be making jokes."

Josef remained stoic. "And why not?" he asked. "Is there something else we should be doing? Do you honestly believe that sitting about and talking for hours in stern voices is going to somehow improve our situation?"

"They want to throw you out," she whispered. "The Aurors are ready to turn you over to the Ministry. They won't let you stay unless Pomfrey agrees to it and she says she won't even stand in the same room as you until she knows that you're not like the others."

"It's true. I'm not like the others," declared Josef. "I thought that was already quite obvious. The others are dead. I still appear quite lively."

"So did Marius when we first talked to him," Harry said in a grave tone. "Evelyn had been under its influence for quite some time and no one noticed."

For a moment Josef just sat on the bed, nodding solemnly. "I see now. Despite the fact that I have already gone through all of that, there is always the possibility that I am still under its control and it's waiting for the most opportune time to strike at your Healer?" He sat back and let out a long sigh. "What might I do to prove that I am telling the truth?"

Ginny looked uncomfortable. "The others had... a mark... or a scar. After she attacked us, Evelyn's mark got better."

"I have no marks," Josef declared, "and while I might agree, it is a little misleading to say that death has made Evelyn's mark any better. Death may have been an—" He paused suddenly, confused by the surprised looks Harry and Ginny shared. "What is it?" he asked. "What did I say?"

"Evelyn isn't dead," Harry told him. "She's alive. She's been healed."

Disbelief filled Josef's eyes and he began looking around the room uncomfortably. "No. No, she's dead. It— It killed her. I—" He paused again and Harry saw the muscles in his arms twitch. After a moment he seemed to calm down. "I saw it kill her. She welcomed it."

Harry simply stared back at him. "She's alive. She's healed. They even let her leave St. Mungo's."

Josef's eyes darted back and forth between Harry and Ginny. "She's been healed," he whispered. "Then, I— But—" His eyes stopped on Ginny and he started to relax. "I don't have any marks," he insisted. "I'm not like the others. There's nothing to find. I don't know how I can prove I've never had something that isn't there."

"I don't know what they'll think of that," Ginny told Harry. "I think everyone is a bit shaken right now. I do know they're not going to take his word for it. Madam Pomfrey is convinced he must have one."

Harry nodded. "I know Madam Pomfrey isn't happy with me at the moment, but the rest of them respect me. They'll believe it if I check him."

Before Harry could say another word, Josef shook his head and held out his hands. "I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized. "You're the closest thing I've got to a brother —a younger, foolish brother— and I might owe you my life, but I'll not let you search me for marks. We're just not that close."

"Well someone needs to. Is there anyone else you'd prefer?"

A smile spread slowly across Josef's face. "How about her?" he said with a nod toward Ginny. "If it has to happen—"

"She's injured," interrupted Harry.

Ginny stepped closer and put a hand on Harry's arm. "I'm not that injured, Harry. I can do it. I'm feeling better."

Harry frowned but before he could respond, Josef's face had become a mockery of innocence. "Come on, Harry," he said in a patronizing tone, "she just wants to do her part."

Harry glared him and worked hard to keep himself from smiling. "Nice try," he said, finally succumbing to the urge. "Get some rest, Ginny," he told her. "He was joking. I'm sure if he had a choice he'd prefer an Egyptian prostitute."

Josef's smile widened as he turned to Ginny. "If Harry was the only other option, I'm sure I would," he said, beginning to laugh. "At least the prostitute would be able to string together enough French to buy me a decent drink afterward."

Harry rolled his eyes as Josef laid back and began laughing loudly. He shook his head and turned toward Ginny. "As you can see, he's doing just fine. I'll handle this. Go lie down. I don't want Madam Pomfrey upset at me for keeping you out of bed."

Ginny said a quick goodbye to Josef as his laughter faded to a series of faint coughs. He smiled back at her and waved as she turned to hug Harry and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. She paused as she turned toward the door and frowned at Josef, who was still coughing lightly.

"That doesn't sound good," she said softly. "I could send for Madam Pomfrey. She—"

"I'll talk to her a little later," Harry said. "He'll be fine until then." Ginny nodded weakly and began walking slowly toward the door.

Josef watched her as she walked out of the room. After she had left, he sat up again and let out one last dry cough. The smile on his face faded slowly.

"You didn't want her to see the sword," he commented quietly. "Why not?" Before Harry could think of just how he wanted to answer, Josef found one for him. "You were afraid she would see the snake," he said. "You were afraid she might understand what it meant."

"She still has dreams about the Chamber," Harry said.

"So do you, it seems," said Josef. He cocked his head to the side as if he suddenly solved some mystery. "You haven't told her about them, have you? Why not?"

"She's had a rough—"

"She's in them, isn't she?" Josef pressed him. "You're not telling her because you're afraid."

"They're just dreams," Harry said, trying to convince himself as much as Josef. "I've had dreams for years. They don't mean anything. She's had a hard enough time as it is."

"It's more than that, though," he said in an empty voice. "There's more that you haven't told her."

"I'm trying to protect her."

"Are you?" Josef asked sharply. For a moment he looked like he was about to shout at Harry, but he stopped himself and only seconds later looked calm and almost sad. "How bad were her injuries?" he said, turning back toward the empty doorway.

"Pretty bad, I think," Harry admitted, "but nothing difficult to fix. She was bleeding quite a bit. I think that was the worst of it."

"She shouldn't be walking around."

"I'm well aware of that," agreed Harry, "and so is she. She's never liked people telling her what she can't do."

"I imagine that's what she likes about you," he commented. Harry tossed him a questioning look and he shrugged it off. "You're hardly a role model for obedience and cooperation, Harry," Josef explained.

"What does that mean?"

"It probably means that you were raised by idiots," he answered with a crooked smile, "or that you suffered some sort of mental injury when you were young. Neither can be repaired, tragically. The fact that Ginny overlooked this suggests that she might have some mental injuries of her own. Perhaps you should mention that to your Healer."

"I don't think that's something she can fix," Harry replied with a smile of his own.

"Perhaps not. She can handle the rest though?" Josef asked in a more serious voice. "Ginny won't need to go to St. Mungo's?"

"No, she'll be fine. She just needs rest."

Josef turned slightly to look at the door again. "She'll be here, or is she going... somewhere else?"

"I'd guess she'll be here," Harry answered slowly. "Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep an eye on her and McGonagall won't let me leave you here alone. Is there—"

"Will she be alone or... with you?" Josef asked, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"This isn't really a place where anyone can be alone," Harry replied suspiciously. "She'll be in the Hospital Wing and I'll be upstairs, if that's what you mean. Why are you asking?"

"Don't worry, Harry. I just wanted to talk with her."

"You want to talk with her? Alone?"

Slowly, Josef stood up and began walking about aimlessly. "I want to—" he started, then paused and stared down at his hands. "I need to apologize to her. It will be... easier if I don't have to do it in front of the others."

Harry found himself feeling very curious. Josef rarely apologized with such formality. This was mostly because he rarely made mistakes requiring him to. "What do you need to apologize for?"

"I hurt her, Harry," Josef replied.

"You've hurt lots of people, Josef, but I know that it wasn't you. Ginny knows that, too."

Josef stood completely still and stared at Harry. "It was different with her," he said in low tones. "I couldn't control it, but— It feeds off pain and anger, you see. It never would have— I let myself get angry and—" He let out a long sigh and began pacing in front of his bed. "She shouldn't have been there, Harry," Josef said, almost scolding him. "You knew she had no business there."

"Where should she have been?"

"You knew what you were facing," Josef replied sharply. "What purpose did she serve? I understand bringing Hermione and even the Aurors. Ron is a little harder to justify, but there's little harm in it. You have to know that Ginny is special. You should not have let her risk herself like that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Have you already forgotten what we were talking about just a moment ago? There was nothing I could say to Ginny to keep her from coming with us."

Josef clenched his fists and looked as though he wanted to reply, but said nothing. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded. "I suppose you're right," he agreed. "She's spent too much time around you, Harry. She's picking up your bad habits."

"If it weren't for those habits, you might not be alive," countered Harry. "Without her as a hostage, I would have killed you."

"Perhaps that would have been better," he said quietly. "Still, this only reinforces the fact that Ginny was hurt because of my failure. I need her to understand what happened. She is very brave, but she cannot risk herself like that. Her presence is... upsetting to this thing. It's unstable. She needs to show a little more caution. The next time this happens she might not be so lucky."

"You're welcome to try," Harry replied, "but if you're really interested in wasting your time on things that are doomed to fail, you might as well try and help the rest of us look for the wizards with new scars or marks who might be possessed by some evil spirit."

"You'll never find it," Josef said.

"I understand that, but we have to—"

"You'll never find it because there is no scar or wound or any other sort of marking," Josef finished. "It's well beyond the need of such rudimentary methods. As enjoyable as it might be to have you search me, you'll find nothing. It already had more than enough strength when it found me."

Harry noticed that Josef was starting to look tired. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his eyes. "I was as foolish as you were. I knew Reynard could not be responsible for everything that was happening. He's a good wizard, but the attack at Cornwall was beyond him. I was convinced it was Valencia. There's something about her that doesn't quite fit. I was so blinded by the thought that I stopped paying attention to what was going on. When I heard that Evelyn had been looking for the Brotherhood, I knew something was wrong. I hadn't been told. That could only mean that something had happened in Romania."

"My worst fears were confirmed when I arrived. The Brotherhood was falling apart. The Castle was locked and there were reports of strange things happening at night. It was then when I finally understood what we had done." He stared up at Harry wearily. "We were just trying to stop Grigore," he said, almost as though asking for forgiveness. "He wasn't himself. It was tearing his mind apart. We had to stop him. He didn't give us any choice. Destroying the arch seemed like the best solution. It was broken already. It couldn't be trusted anymore. So I—" His voice trailed off and he turned to stare at the doorway again.

"I opened the gateway," he said without emotion. "I never— It's not the sort of thing that's ever been done before. No one could have known that— There was so much _force_ behind it. It must have been there, waiting for almost a century, _knowing_ that its chance would come. It wasn't more than an instant before Aleksey cast the spell, but it was enough. The stone of the Arch, it was... corrupted, infused with the power of... I never even considered it. The man you saved, that was Marcus Lipton. His leg was bleeding—"

"Yes," Harry agreed with a nod, "he had a piece of the Arch embedded in it. I have seen it." Josef's head twitched with surprise. "I found an old man at St. Mungo's who knew quite a bit he shouldn't have."

"An old man?"

"He never told me his name. He was old, with strange robes. Expensive, but not well taken care of. He claimed that he had healed Evelyn."

"But he wasn't a Healer?" prompted Josef.

"He wasn't like any Healer I've met. He knew about the Brotherhood. He knew about Marcus and the stone. He had it with him. He said he'd been watching everything, but he refused to interfere."

"A priest, perhaps," remarked Josef, "or some other sort of mystic."

"I think he was a Seer," Harry replied. "He said that he'd been meant to save Evelyn and that I would meet him again."

Josef frowned. "Harry, if he really was a Seer, you would have read about him in the _Prophet_. There are only a handful. If one of them decided to pop into St. Mungo's you'd have known."

"Perhaps he's been hiding."

"And perhaps he's a dark wizard, Harry," Josef scolded him. "You said he had the piece of stone from the Arch. Why would a Seer have that? What sort of wizard would _want_ to have it?"

"But, he couldn't have been possessed by—"

"You don't need to be controlled by an evil spirit to desire power, Harry," Josef interrupted. "Surely you haven't forgotten everything you learned while working with the Brotherhood. This thing is powerful beyond any of the dark wizards you and I dealt with. Any one of them would murder their own families for a chance to have a small portion of that."

"I... I don't think he was dark wizard," Harry said, though doubt had started to creep into his memories. "I think he genuinely wanted to help me. He was trying to help me, but it was almost like..." As he remembered that night, he began to assemble all of the clues: the minor inflections, nearly imperceptible hesitations, and the unexplained reluctance as the Seer had spoken with him.

"He was suspicious of _me_," Harry announced. "There was never any fear, but he spoke with the uncertainty of someone who didn't know just who they were talking to. It doesn't make sense, though," he said, running his hand though his hair. "He knew exactly who I was the moment I stepped into the room."

"Yes, your fame has spread rather far, Harry. If I would guess, I'd say that he was hiding quite a bit from you. I doubt you could possibly guess his true intentions. Were I in his position, my first concern would be your reaction should you ever realize who I truly was."

"He was trying to help me—"

"He was manipulating you, Harry," Josef insisted. "Whether it was for your benefit or his, he coerced you into doing exactly what he wanted you to do. You don't understand the power this thing has. No one is safe. No one can be trusted blindly. It knows things no one could possibly know and it uses them to get what it wants."

"In what way?" Harry asked, afraid of just what the answer might be.

"It told me things," Josef said in a hollow tone. "It made promises. It said it could give me everything I had ever dreamed of."

"That's odd," Harry remarked. "Evelyn said it didn't offer her anything at all."

Josef's response was harsh. "It didn't need to. It already knew what she wanted. It made her pain real," he said. "You've rejected her. She has always blamed Ginny for ruining her chance with you because it was easier than blaming herself. She had convinced herself that it wasn't her fault, but seeing you with her and happy was making that hard to believe. It simply fixed that problem for her. Now her anger is legitimate. She's been wronged. It wasn't her fault. Her hatred of Ginny is justified. The one person she'd never blamed has turned on her, and—"

"—And now she hates me," Harry finished for him.

"Now she hates everyone," corrected Josef. "There is no happiness left in her. That was what it wanted. It knew you would choose Ginny. It hates Evelyn as much as she hates everyone else."

"Then why pick her? Why not find someone more useful? What was the point?"

"That's just it, Harry, _there was no point_," he said. "It's senseless and without reason or purpose. It did it to show that it doesn't care. It didn't need Evelyn. It could have picked anyone. It did it to cause pain and suffering. It doesn't want anything in return."

"Everyone wants something," Harry said, cringing at how similar he sounded to Grigore.

"If that's true, then what this thing desires is to rob you of whatever it is that you want. It _knows_ what you want of and it promises to give it to you, but it doesn't. It twists your dreams, corrupting them until the very thought of them is a nightmare. Marcus Lipton wanted power and it consumed him. His son, Marius, wanted to be like his father and he got his wish. The Italian at the Quidditch match just wanted everyone to remember him."

"And Mira?" prompted Harry. "She was killed for wanting a friend?"

Josef shook his head. "No, Harry. The one thing she wanted more than anything else was to be able to meet and talk with you."

"But _why?_" Harry asked again. "None of them accomplished anything. Any of them could have traveled to Romania and opened the door, but it didn't even need that. It was already taking control of the Brotherhood. Why attack the others? Why Mira? Why Evelyn? It doesn't make sense."

Josef's expression darkened as he looked at Harry. "There is no reason for it. There is no explanation or rationalization for what it does. It did it to cause suffering. That's what it does. That's what it _is_. Pain is all it knows."

"How do you know all this?"

"It told me," answered Josef. "It spoke to me in the black. For two weeks I didn't eat or sleep. Every day was a long, unending night filled with visions of violence and pain —pain that I was causing. It spoke to me in during the long hours, tormenting me with information no one would ever want to know."

"If it would help—"

"Maybe it will, but not enough. Most of it is slipping away, like everything else," he said, extending his hand toward the lamp sitting on the nearby table. It slowly rose only a few inches into the air, trembling. The shaking became more pronounced until it wobbled dangerously and dropped back to the table,

"There's no value to any of it," Josef said with a blank stare. "I don't even know how much truth there was in it. It was... It was tormenting me. It was trying to break me, to destroy me from the inside."

Harry tried to smile. "Well, you must be tougher than it thought," he said encouragingly. "You seem to have recovered quite well."

"Am I?" asked Josef. "I don't want to go to sleep, Harry. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes, it will be there, waiting for me. I don't want to remember, Harry. I don't want to see the things I've seen. I— I'm afraid that if I let it start again, it may never end."

"If you want it to end, then we might need some of those things you want to forget," Harry told him. "We're all a bit lost at the moment. If you've got any clue what we're supposed to do next, I need to know it."

"Trust me, Harry. There's nothing useful in my nightmares."

Harry remained persistent. "That's not true. You knew why it attacked the others. You know what it's capable of. You've seen the things it's been doing."

"I know what it's _told_ me, Harry. It wanted me to live. It knows I'll talk to you. Anything I know is either worthless or an attempt to manipulate you again."

"Then let's assume that is precisely what it is doing and we will see what we can learn from its intentions," Harry replied. It had been one of the many lessons Josef had tried to teach Harry so long ago and Josef had not forgotten. His shoulders sagged and he nodded lazily.

"So what else do you know?" Harry asked. "There must be something. Can you tell us where is it now?"

"I don't know," he said dismissively.

"You don't know, or you won't tell me?" Harry shot back.

Josef flashed an annoyed scowl. "I don't know _and_ I won't tell you. Even if I did tell you, there is nothing you could do about it."

"How can you know that? We have to try."

"No, Harry, _we_ can't do anything," Josef said sternly. "Ginny could have been killed today. She needs another day or more of rest. Hermione and Ron are physically healthy, but even I can see that they're having serious problems. Justinian has always been a fool and now he's got a slight limp, as well. Valencia will think twice before running off to help you, and let's not forget that no one even knows what might be wrong with you."

"We need to figure out what it's doing."

Josef rolled his eyes. "It's already obvious what it's doing. We opened a door and it stepped through. Now that door is gone. You don't need to be a scholar to guess why it might have done that. It's escaped and it doesn't want to go back."

"Wait, that means that it's possible to send it back," Harry announced. With a flash, he understood what Josef meant. "It's going to try and close them all. We need to send word to Trieste. There is another Veil there. It's nearby."

"So are the Veils at Sparta, Istanbul and Vienna. Even if you knew which it would go to first, what would you do? Send Aurors to their deaths? Do you think the Greek or Turkish Ministries will even believe you when you tell them what is happening? If you try to fight it now, you'll have to do it by yourself. "

"What else can we do?" asked Harry. "Are we just supposed to wait for it to come to us?"

"It's not as bad of an idea as you might think," Josef said. "There is a Veil in London. It will come for it sooner or later."

"How do we know that it isn't at the Ministry right now?"

"Because we're here," Josef answered firmly. "It knows that we're here and it knows that you saw the Veil Chamber in Romania. It will assume that you've already figured out what it's doing. I think that's why it attacked all of you. For the moment, you have the advantage."

Harry shook his head. "You must have some different idea of just what an advantage is. No one has been able to stop it. Even when we knew what we were up against, we were barely able to protect ourselves. If it came to Britain, why would the result be any different? It's just too powerful."

"It's powerful, Harry, but it isn't beyond fear. It's afraid of you, it's afraid of me, and it's afraid of Ginny."

* * *

Ginny found herself being ushered back to her bed almost immediately after leaving Harry and Josef. By then the Hospital Wing was buzzing with activity. Even Ron and Hermione had made their way back to the main hall where they were talking with Tonks and Simon. Ginny had tried to join them but Madam Pomfrey insisted that she return to her bed. She did, reluctantly, and waited while the crimson potion Pomfrey gave her bubbled in its goblet on her bedside table. 

After spending quite some time talking with Josef, Harry had come back out to talk to McGonagall and the Aurors. He called Ron and Hermione over, but simply gave her a reassuring smile from across the room. Ginny felt a small amount of resentment over the fact that he didn't include her, but an even greater amount of suspicion over the reason why. She couldn't help but feel that there was something Harry was trying to hide from her. He probably thought he was protecting her. If she hadn't been as exhausted as she was, she would have been quite angry with him. In the end, she convinced herself that must be the reason why he'd done it. She did need her rest and she drifted off well before Harry had finished talking to the others.

Pomfrey returned somewhat later. Ginny felt groggy but a little stronger than she had earlier. Madam Pomfrey worked quickly, filling another glass with the same bitter potion she'd drank earlier. She worked quickly, passing her wand over Ginny rather haphazardly before tapping the glass impatiently and waiting for Ginny to drink it.

The moment she had finished it, the older witch waved her wand, pulling the sheets up over Ginny's shoulders. She turned and quickly made her way to the door. Ginny got the distinct impression that she didn't want to spend any more time in the wing than she needed to. She'd made it quite clear that she didn't trust Josef and didn't approve of him staying there. Ginny tried to find it odd, but she was quickly overcome with sleep.

Later that night, she awoke to find herself sitting up in bed. She immediately knew something was wrong. The hall was hot. It was the dry, oppressive heat more common for summer afternoons than evenings in the heart of winter. No fireplace could have done such a thing. Something unnatural was happening. She began wishing that Pomfrey hadn't left her alone.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for her dressing gown. She dropped it almost as soon as she grabbed it. It felt even warmer than the air in the room. Instead of trying to understand why that was, she reached for her wand. It felt almost as though the wood would scald her, but she refused to let go. Holding it only gingerly in her hand she began searching the room for anything out of place.

There was nothing to see. Moonlight filtered through the windows creating a row of pale shafts of light which fell across the far wall. There was no sign of movement and no sound at all. She let out a faint hiss as her feet touched the floor. It was hot, as well, and felt rough and gritty against the soles of her feet. She took a moment to search for slippers or shoes of some sort. Her search was quickly abandoned, however. It simply wasn't important. Her feet would adjust and it was obvious there was something much more disturbing at hand.

Slowly and carefully, she walked from her bed to crouch silently in the shadows under a nearby window. The entire room was quite warm and though she was wearing only a thin nightgown, she could already feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She wiped her brow and tried to push her hair back over her shoulders.

Sitting still, she realized that the heat didn't seem to be caused by any sort of warming charm she knew of. It wasn't coming from the air or walls. Instead, it seemed to be radiating from some point on the other side of the hall. Squinting through the darkness in that direction, she saw that the door which led to the rest of the castle was open.

She took a moment to wipe her hands on her nightgown to dry them before getting a good grip on her wand. She began walking forward quietly, never taking her eyes off the doorway. Madam Pomfrey always kept it closed. An open door could mean only one thing. As she stepped closer, she began to feel a dry breeze blowing across her skin. It was harsh and irritating. She squinted at the darkness, searching for some explanation.

Suddenly, the shadows between her and the door shifted and her eyes picked out a tall silhouette. Instinctively, her arm shot out and she prepared to defend herself.

"You will not need your wand," announced a deep voice.

Ginny opened her mouth to cast a hex but froze as she saw that her hand was empty. Her wand had simply disappeared. When she looked up again, she found a hooded man standing in front of her. She recognized him almost immediately. It was the same wizard who had appeared in the hallway at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Not even the blazing heat coming off him could stop the chill that ran through her. She stumbled backward, gasping for breath.

"_Harry!_" she screamed as she searched in vain for her wand. "_Harry! He's here!_"

"Scream all you like," he said smoothly. "I am the only one who will hear you."

"Coward!" she shouted. "You're afraid of him, aren't you?"

"That's not how it works," he said, advancing toward her slowly. "A better question is whether you are. Judging by your actions, I must assume that you do not yet fear him. You were quite quick to scream his name," he said, his voice taking on a cruel edge. "You have done it before, have you? Quite often, I would say, by the ease which it passed your lips."

"Shut up," she spat. "I don't care what you say. You won't hurt me."

Green light blazed from a pair of points under the shadow of his hood. "There are many ways to feel pain," he snarled in contempt. "Do not pretend that you have not felt many of them. Do not _lie_," he shouted suddenly, "and tell me that you do not know the bitter sting of betrayal. I can see it cutting deep into your spirit: a boy named Tom. He was very cruel. He used you."

Images of that horrible year flooded back to her. She fought against them, trying to push them away, but they only came faster. She closed her eyes, but it did nothing. The sound of Tom Riddle's laughter filled her ears. She tried to cover them with her hands, but it only got louder. She could hear whispers of students blaming her for the attacks, the sobbing of the victims friends, and finally her own screaming. Her whole body shook but she fought to remain on her feet. Slowly, she forced her eyes open.

"Stop," she whispered. Her voice grew louder and more demanding. "Stop it. _Stop it!_"

Abruptly, the visions and voices vanished, replaced with the irritating feeling of the hot, dry breeze. The wizard was still standing in front of her, as if waiting for her to recover. His tattered hood hung low, veiling his face in shadow, but she could now see that he didn't look as old as he had the last time he had appeared to her. His face was still gaunt and drawn, but there was an immeasurable strength to it. As she stared at him, his lips drew back into a loathsome smile.

"You see? There are many forms of pain. You still fear him. You fear what he made you do and how easily it was done."

"Tom is gone," she panted. "He's nothing more than a memory."

"Is he?" the wizard whispered. "Is he, then?" He stepped closer to her and she bravely stood her ground. She didn't want to show her fear or let him intimidate her any more. However, this only made him smile more.

He began circling her, almost as though he were inspecting her. She stood completely still, ignoring the droplets of sweat which were running down the sides of her face. Her empty hands felt slippery and she could feel her damp hair clinging to her back and shoulders. She forced herself to concentrate and keep her balance. She needed to remain strong. He was trying to wear her down, and she didn't want to think of what might happen if she fainted.

"You never knew what Tom Riddle truly was, did you?" he hissed. "He destroyed Tom but he never explained it. You should have been told. You _deserve_ to know. You, who had been closer to him than any other in the world, need to understand."

"Then why don't you tell me?" she said, trying to sound as defiant as possible.

"Why has Harry never told you?" he countered. "You must know there are things he has kept from you. Have you never asked? Have you never wondered what secrets he keeps? Has he ever told you that Voldemort was totally and utterly destroyed? Could you see the lie in his eyes?"

"Are you him?" she snapped. "Are you Tom Riddle?"

"That is what you fear, isn't it?" he replied in a silky tone. "No, I am not Tom. He is dead and I am here. But such questions are beneath you. Do you not remember me? I remember you. I remember you _well_."

"No, you don't," she said, shaking her head vigorously and hopefully hiding the fact that she'd done it primarily to keep herself alert. " I haven't done anything to you. I didn't even know you existed. I'm not who you think I am."

"Perhaps not," he purred, "but soon you will be."

Ginny swallowed a sob. "No, I—"

"There is no fighting it," he said as he reached out to caress her face.

Ginny closed her eyes, fearing his sickening touch. The actual sensation was far worse than she could have imagined. His hand was soft and gentle and as it grazed the line of her jaw it spread a cool, soothing sensation down her neck and into her stomach. She wanted to fight it, but her all of her muscles were giving in. The room tilted slightly and she felt her legs buckle underneath her.

Pain shot through her body as she hit the floor. A second later, her body reacted to the scalding temperature of it. She writhed in torture for a moment, unable to stand and unable to escape the heat beneath her. Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision, but not so much that she couldn't see the cloaked wizard crouched next to her, reaching out to touch her again.

Her legs kicked, pushing her back and away from him. She used every bit of strength she had trying to escape, but there was nothing she could do. He simply walked along next to her, patiently waiting for her to give up. Her will gave out and with the last of her strength she pushed herself up against one of the beds and tugged at her nightgown, trying to cover herself as much as possible while he crouched next to her again.

He was no longer smiling. "There is the defiance I remember."

"I'm not her," Ginny said hoarsely. "You can't make—"

He reached out to press a finger against her lips. The mixing of pleasure and hatred nearly made her sick. "I know what you are. I have waited thousands of years to find you again. There is no mistake." Ginny twisted to pull her face away from him. She tried to speak, but no sound came.

"I know you. This is what you fear: helplessness. That is why you fear Tom Riddle. You hate him for betraying you, but you fear him for robbing you of your strength, for making you _weak_." The green light swirled in his eyes as he stared down at her. "You were powerless then. It doesn't have to be that way any more. You can walk your own path. You can steer the fate of the entire world."

"I don't want it," she said weakly.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "It is yours whether you want it or not," he said. "This is your doing, not mine. I have endured more than you can imagine, but I have been patient. I have waited, but soon there will be no need. The time is coming. _Our_ time is coming." Ginny sobbed as he traced a finger down the side of her thigh. "I am growing stronger. You cannot deny me for long."

Ginny felt the bed behind her shift a little. Without thinking, she opened her eyes and stared in horror. Hospital Wing was dissolving away. The ceiling was hidden in shadow and the beds were twisting into the shape of tall stone pillars. "It's not real," she gasped. "It can't be." She was in the Chamber of Secrets. It was exactly as she remembered it and yet, it felt blurry or somehow foggy. The cloaked wizard was still kneeling next to her and she was still wearing her nightgown and damp with sweat.

"Who are you," she asked him. "_What_ are you?"

"You cannot understand what I am," he said in a deep voice which echoed off the darkened walls. "You are not ready to understand what I have become. In time, you will. You must. You need to understand what you have done. Once that happens, you will see why you cannot fight me. No one can."

The wizard straddled Ginny's body and held her face in his hands. Ginny tried to struggle, but she had no more strength. He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from hers and all she could see was the glowing green light of his eyes. She shut her eyes tight and tried to tear her mind away from the thought of his touch.

"Harry will stop you," she said as loud as she could manage, though it was barely a whisper.

"No," the wizard replied softly. "He will not. That much is certain. He is looking for answers he already has and he will not find them until it is too late. There is nothing you can do to change that." Ginny felt herself shudder at the thought, and it only encouraged the wizard.

"What did you expect?" he hissed. "Did you think your actions would not have consequences? Did you think you could escape your fate? I have not forgiven you for your crimes against me. Your momentary sadness is a small price to pay for what I have been left to. I will not let you escape your debt."

Ginny couldn't breathe. Her mind swam with fear and contentment and disgust all at once. She refused to open her eyes but she didn't want to lose consciousness either. She didn't want to end up like Mira. The memory of Mira's last moments was a nightmare she couldn't forget. The wizard spoke again and this time it sounded almost as though it came from inside her own mind.

"You will tell him about this, will you not? I am certain he would be quite interested. Be as... descriptive as you like," he said mockingly. "Tell him that I will wait for him at Carthage. If he brings the Jewel, I will let him live. If not," he said, letting one of his hands trail down Ginny's neck, "I will teach him a new form of pain."

Ginny tried to scream. She wanted to beg him to stop. Instead she felt as though she had been dropped in an icy lake. She gasped for air and felt her muscles tense painfully. Her eyes blinked open but the world around her was a shadowy blur. Her arms and legs felt restricted and she immediately fought back, thrashing them wildly. Suddenly, it disappeared and was replaced by a fresh wave of chills. She tried to push herself away and felt her arm fall out from under her. The world tilted and spun and she felt herself fall onto cold stone.

Ginny blinked her eyes as she flopped about on the floor. She was in the Hospital Wing. She was shaking uncontrollably, but she didn't know if it was because of the cold floor or the paralyzing fear still running through her veins. With her heart pounding, she struggled to stand up on unsteady legs.

Had it all been a dream? It couldn't be. Her skin was still slick with sweat. She stepped into the center of the room, looking for the cloaked wizard and wondering what she would do when she found him. She knew she couldn't fight him again, not so soon.

Her fear rose up to drown her as she turned toward the door. The cloaked wizard could be waiting just on the other side, waiting for her to leave. The mere thought was almost suffocating. Each step was a battle and she couldn't imagine making it far enough to find help. She simply had to try, though.

"Ginny?" echoed a voice behind her.

A panicked scream erupted from her throat as she spun around to see a shadowy shape standing near her bed. Paralyzed with horror, she stood where she was, waiting for the inevitable.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" the voice asked again.

The genuine concern cut through the haze in Ginny's mind. She knew the voice. A moment later, she saw Josef's face as he stepped through the moonlight streaming into the hall.

"I thought I heard you... calling out in your sleep," he said as he continued walking toward her. "Are you alright?"

"I— I've been better," she said weakly, unable to escape from her own fear. Her heart was still racing. She tried to tell herself it was all just a dream, but she couldn't help but think it might be a trick. Her tremors increased as Josef approached.

He came to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "Ginny," he said in a tone laced with urgency, "you're shaking. What is wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied. "I just— I—"

Josef stepped toward her and reached for her shoulder. With a terrified shriek, she twisted away. Her legs were still weak and unsteady and the attempt quickly made her lose balance. Josef lunged at her, but he wasn't quick enough to save her from collapsing onto the floor. Her body shuddered with pain and shock from the touch of the icy stone.

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was a shadowy figure stooping over her. Fear flooded her mind and she simply reacted.

"No— no more!" she screamed. "Please! I understand— I see now—" Firm hands closed around her shoulders and she let out a wailing sob. She tried to strike out at him with her arms, but he caught them and held them gently.

"Ginny, relax," Josef said in a soothing voice. "It's me. I'm here. You have nothing to be afraid of." She paused long enough to open her eyes and look up at him. The moonlight shone off his face, twinkling in his pale blue eyes and highlighting his concerned expression. "It's alright. I will protect you."

Slowly, the world fell back into place around her. Her heart was pounding and she was still gasping for air, but her fear was ebbing away. Josef slowly backed away from her, giving her a moment to sit up and try to compose herself. Only then did Ginny realize that his wand was out. While she tried to get herself to relax, his eyes were scanning the room and looking for whatever it was that had frightened her.

"Are you alright?" he asked eventually. "Are you hurt? Do you need—"

"I'm fine," she interrupted. "I was— I was just frightened."

"Frightened?" Josef repeated skeptically. "You're drenched. You could barely walk. I tried to help you and you looked like you thought I was trying to kill you."

"Yes, well... I guess I..." she began, stalling while she tried to think of something to say. Josef's eyes narrowed suspiciously and Ginny got the impression that he might already know the truth. "I had a... nightmare," she admitted.

Josef nodded. "I had already guessed that," he said. "It seemed a more likely explanation than the belief that you were simply the world's worst singer." Almost against her will, Ginny felt the corners of her mouth pulling back into a smile. For a moment, Josef was smiling back at her, then his eyes darted away to stare at a darkened corner over her shoulder. Craning her neck to see, she looked but saw nothing at all.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Josef said as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm just, er... trying to keep watch. It was probably just a rat or something." Ginny's legs reacted on their own, trying to get as far from the corner as possible. She'd never been fond of them, and after Scabbers she never trusted them. After trying to stand she found herself sprawled across the cold floor yet again. Josef rushed forward to help her. With a firm grip, he pulled her to her feet. The moment she seemed steady, he let go of her and began pacing nearby.

"Is something wrong?" Ginny asked, gripping a nearby bedpost for support.

"Oh, er, no..." he said rather unconvincingly. "Well, yes, but—"

She felt her stomach tighten. "What is it?"

He paused for a moment, glancing at her, then staring at the ceiling. "It's just that— Well, you're h— You're very warm and well... the room must feel freezing with only, er..." His eyes met hers then looked down for just an instant before he turned away again.

Ginny looked down and gasped in horror. She had forgotten that she wasn't wearing anything more than her nightgown. Even if it hadn't been wrinkled, damp and clinging to her skin, it wasn't the sort of thing she would ever want to be seen wearing. Blushing furiously, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to turn away from Josef.

"I'm sorry," he apologized as Ginny tugged at her nightgown in an attempt to make herself appear a little less indecent. It didn't help much, but her embarrassment was still eclipsed by the memory of her dream. To her surprise, Josef seemed to be even more uncomfortable than she was.

Taking care not to fall again, Ginny walked behind him on her way back to her bed. Her dressing gown was still hanging from the bed post. She pulled it off the small hook and wrapped it around her shoulders. Almost immediately she began shivering uncontrollably. The dressing gown, like everything else in the room, was frightfully cold.

"That won't do," Josef remarked as he strode toward her. Before she could stop him, he had pulled off the dressing gown and tossed it back on her bed. She whirled about, glaring at him and trying to chastise him through chattering teeth. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and frowned. "You've got a fever, but you'll freeze if you keep that dressing gown on."

Ginny grabbed her wand from the small table nearby and tried to keep it steady as she aimed it at the dressing gown. A simple warming charm would fix it —if she could stop her wand from shaking. Josef grabbed the wand from her hand.

"You've been through quite enough," he said. "The last thing we need is for you to start your bed on fire. Right now, the best thing is to get you out of that nightgown." A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over Ginny and she held her arms tight against her nightgown as if Josef might suddenly try to take it, too.

"I had something else in mind," he said with a frown. Turning his back to her, he aimed his wand at a nearby bed. With a dull flash, the two pillows laying at its head turned into a pair of towels. "For your hair," he commented, as he tossed the towels blindly behind him.

As Ginny dried her hair, Josef turned his wand on the sheets. She watched in amazement as they peeled themselves off the bed and began swirling about over the bed in the middle of a whirlwind of red sparks. A minute later, they dropped back onto the bed as a heap of scarlet fabric. Being careful not to look behind him, he handed his creation to Ginny.

Holding the bundle in a trembling hand, she realized he'd made a new dressing gown for her. It was exquisite. As quickly as she could, she pulled off the cold, damp nightgown and wrapped the new gown around her. The fabric looked like expensive silk and felt amazingly comfortable. Somehow, it managed to feel both comfortably warm and soothingly cool at the same.

After tying the soft belt, she collapsed onto the bed and felt herself finally starting to relax. The chilly air in the room felt refreshing against her face while the warmth of the bed beneath her kept her from shivering. She saw the Josef's shadow gliding across the wall as he paced near her bed. Once she began to feel a little more comfortable, she sat up a bit to look at him. He didn't notice her watching him at first and for a moment she saw a look of deep worry and disgust on his face.

"Is everything alright?" she asked weakly. Almost instantly, Josef's expression brightened into a warm smile. He insisted that everything was fine, but Ginny began to wonder what he wasn't saying. For a moment he'd been unguarded but it passed quickly and now he wore a pleasant mask to keep from upsetting her.

"I'm sorry," she said, hoping make him feel a little more comfortable.

He paused and turned to throw a confused look at her. "What do you have to be sorry about?"

"I woke you up."

He frowned and continued pacing. "That's nothing you should need to apologize for. Even if it were, I wasn't sleeping and you weren't having an ordinary dream."

There was no point in denying it. She still had a fever from it. That was far from ordinary.

Josef saw her reaction and sighed. "It was him, wasn't it?" he asked. "It was the wizard —or _thing_— from the Veil." When she didn't deny it, he shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's four of us, then. How did he appear to you? Was he wearing a cloak or did he look like one of your friends?"

"The cloak," Ginny whispered, feeling oddly ashamed. Though she hadn't done anything, it felt strangely similar to her first year at Hogwarts. It was bad enough having a dark wizard prove how weak she was, telling Josef about it was even worse.

"And he spoke to you," he continued. Ginny nodded silently. "Did he tell you anything about what he's doing or planning, anything at all?"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but froze before saying anything. He had told her what he was planning. He wanted her to know. He wanted Harry to know. She broke out in a cold sweat as she remembered the words echoing in her mind: _If he brings the Jewel, I will let him live._

Josef sensed her hesitation and looked into her eyes. "Did he threaten you?" he asked firmly.

Ginny shook her head. "He won't hurt me."

"Perhaps not, but there are many ways to threaten a person. He did threaten you, didn't he?" He didn't wait for Ginny to reply. "Perhaps we should talk to Harry. I'd guess he'd be very interested in this."

"No!" shouted Ginny as she jumped off the bed. "I mean— there's no point. I— I don't know anything. I barely remember what happened. I'd rather just forget it all."

Josef stood in front of her with a haunted expression Ginny understood all too well. "So would I," he said as he sat down on the bed across from her. "Listen, I can understand why you might say that. I— I don't know what you heard or saw, but it can't be worse than what I've been through. I know it feels horrible now, but trust me, it can get worse. I don't want you to regret this later. If you know something and don't tell anyone and people get hurt or even—"

"It's not that," she said quickly. "It's better if no one—" She tried to stop herself as soon as she heard the words coming out of her mouth, but it was too late.

"It's better if no one knows," he finished for her. "You're trying to protect Harry." Ginny shook her head weakly and Josef stood up to start pacing again. "Did you learn something about him?" he asked in a strangely stiff voice. "Or something he's done?"

Ginny shook her head.

"But you do know something," he continued.

"I know Harry," she said. "I know how he'll react. So do you."

Josef seemed to relax a little. "Yes. Yes, I do know how Harry reacts to these sort of things." He turned to stare into the moonlight. "Perhaps you are right," he said, "but it's not without risk. There may be consequences you're not able to see."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What sort of consequences?"

A tense silence filled the space between them. Josef seemed on the edge of saying something, but every time he opened his mouth, he stopped himself. Finally, he turned to stare directly at her.

"I'm afraid of what will happen to you," he announced.

"I— I already told you. He won't hurt me."

"Not just you," Josef corrected her. "I'm afraid of what will happen to you and Harry. Perhaps it's none of my business, but— How are the two of you doing?" he asked.

Ginny blinked in surprise. "Er, fine, I think," she answered, sounding far less confident than she would have liked. "I mean, it's not been easy, but— How could it be?" she added, trying to be a little more cheerful. "Any friendship would have its troubles with things the way they are,"

"Is that how you see Harry?"

"No—" Ginny replied immediately, "—no, he's more than that, of course. I, er... Well, I love him," she said, feeling a little awkward. "I do. It's been difficult not knowing what's happening and... not really knowing why he does some of the things he does, but it's not like he's the only one. Hermione and I used to be fairly close, but recently... well, that's a different story."

A troubled expression passed across Josef's face. "Yes," he said, "it probably is."

She began to feel even more uncomfortable. "Is there something I don't know?"

"Yes, of course," he said emphatically. "I think that is my point. There is quite a bit that you don't know. There are things that Harry hasn't told you."

Ginny tried to dismiss it. "Harry's always been like that. He needlessly keeps things to himself. He never really had anyone he could trust when he was younger."

"I think you know it's more than that," Josef said with a frown. "Harry's getting stronger. That is no secret. You've seen that already. There is more. Just as you intend to keep this nightmare from him, there are things he hides because he fears the pain they will cause you. In many ways, I can understand. You have already endured so much."

His head dropped and he began speaking in a softer voice. "I am worried, Ginny. It's going to get worse. There is only so much that a person can keep bottled inside them. Love is a powerful emotion, but it can be horribly destructive when combined with anger or betrayal."

Ginny felt her stomach tighten until she almost felt like she would be sick. "Why? Why are you saying all of this?" she asked. It was all a little too much to take and she was having trouble understanding everything that had happened that night.

"I want— I need to be honest with you. You deserve that," he said slowly. "There was a reason I was awake —many reasons, actually— but the most important one was that I was— I was waiting. I was waiting for you to wake up again so that I could... apologize."

"Apologize? To me?"

"I... I fear that my actions or failures have caused you more pain and stress than I ever expected possible." She waited as he stared at her with sparkling blue eyes. At first, she thought it was just a trick of the moonlight, but as soon as he saw her looking at him, he quickly rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his robe.

"You must understand," he said in a serious tone, "it was never my intention, to— I put you in danger."

"Don't blame yourself," she said in a calming voice. "I know it wasn't you who attacked me in Romania. It was this... thing. No one understands what that is like more than I do. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't have control."

"I had more than you realize," Josef admitted. "I let myself get angry. I knew I shouldn't have. It fed off my anger and turned that power on you." Ginny started to reply, but Josef quickly cut her off. "There's more," he warned.

"When I first saw Harry, I knew there was something special about him. Even after he defeated Voldemort, I could see there was for more him to do. When Grigore brought him to the Brotherhood, I admit I was afraid of him. He was strong, but so much of it was uncontrolled. I thought it would be impossible to train him, but I was wrong. Not only did I train him, but we actually became friends. When Grigore turned on him, I sacrificed that friendship to keep him safe. I used every skill the Brotherhood taught me to protect him until we could make the others see what was happening to Grigore. It worked better than I could have expected. It worked so well that Harry didn't even believe that I was helping him. There was just one problem. I only ever thought about Harry. I never thought of how this was going to affect you."

Ginny stared at him. "But... what do I—"

"I used you, Ginny," he admitted. "Grigore said you were just a pawn and I believed him. We were wrong." Ginny watched as the haunted expression crept back across his face. "I didn't see it. I couldn't see it. I don't even know when it started, but by the time I realized what I'd done, it was too late."

Ginny felt confused. "I don't—"

"I should have been protecting you, too," he said. "I should have kept you out of this. I— I should have realized what I was doing. I should have seen it happening. I should have thought about the consequences."

"You did what you thought was right," she said.

"I was wrong," he replied sharply.

"Everyone is wrong on occasion. You can't blame yourself for everything bad that happens. Should I blame you for that nightmare as well?" She regretted saying it a moment later when she saw the look of guilt on Josef's face.

"It should have been my nightmare," he said. Ginny tried to argue, but he stopped her again. "I've been seeing things and... feeling things since I came back from Romania. I— I refused to go to sleep because I knew what would be waiting for me. I've been resisting, preventing it from invading my mind and so it found another way to torment me. Your nightmare was meant to be _my_ punishment."

"Wait, that doesn't make sense," she argued. "It told me all of this was _my_ fault."

Josef didn't seem to even hear her. "I should have done more to protect you back then. Now you've been pulled into danger and there's no way out. This shouldn't have been your battle."

"It's Harry's battle, and I care too much to let him do it alone."

Josef's shoulders slumped a little as he nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're right," he said defeatedly before standing slowly and taking a few steps back toward the narrow corridor in the back of the hall.

"I guess it doesn't really matter," he said softly. "Some things just can't be prevented. Still... I'm sorry it had to be this way. I would have tried to stop it if I could have. I hope it can still be stopped and I hope you don't have to sacrifice too much to make that happen."

He silently walked to the back corner of the hall, pausing just long enough to wish her better luck sleeping. After he had disappeared into the shadows, Ginny collapsed back into her bed. It still felt warm, but she no longer wanted to think about why that might be. It was comfortable and she suddenly realized just how exhausted she was. Before she could worry about what dreams might await her, her eyes closed and she fell into a deep, silent sleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

Well, with the imminent release of 'Deathly Hallows', I am both happy and sad to report that this story will be moving into the uncertain domain of Alternate Universe fiction. I suppose there is a chance that it might still work, but I really, really doubt it. Hopefully everyone else will be happy to know that this won't stop me and it won't change the story. At most, I might incorporate some personality updates or other minor references, but I'm more concerned with keeping my story consistent with itself than with original (and excellent) source material. I've simply planned too much and schemed too long to stop now or change any of the plot.


	5. The Twin Serpents

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

**The Twin Serpents**

* * *

Harry woke up the next day feeling hardly less tired than he had been when he fell asleep and quite a bit more sore. He knew he hadn't slept well and felt absolutely no desire to try and figure out why. At the moment, he was much more interested in finding some way to end the rather uncomfortable grumbling that was coming from his stomach. 

Only now he did he realize that he'd totally skipped dinner the night before. After talking with Josef, the realization of what they were facing had started to dawn on him. He tried to tell himself that it couldn't be worse than Voldemort and yet, when he'd been facing Voldemort there was always some understanding of what he was facing. There was never much mystery in figuring out what what he wanted. Harry had always known what needed to be done to stop him.

In truth, his current situation was quite different. He didn't even really know what it was he was supposed to fight. Was it a wizard? Was it some sort of ghost? It was hard enough believing it was actually _real_. The thought of trying to understand how to stop it was beyond Harry's abilities at that hour of the day. Perhaps Hermione and Lupin might have some better idea.

He hadn't brought any clothes with him, so he turned his wand on the robes he'd been wearing the previous day. There would be time to fetch new ones later. After leaving his room he looked down the corridor toward the rooms Ron and Hermione had gone to the night before. There was no sign of either of them, and he felt no desire to search for them. They had quite a row the night before and Harry was observant enough to notice that they had a tendency to disappear after such events. He had chosen to remain blissfully ignorant of the reason for these absences and felt in no mood to end that now.

He casually made his way toward the Great Hall, thinking that would be the most likely place he would find everyone else. His journey there was disturbingly quiet. He'd long since grown accustomed to walking through the castle's corridors when they were utterly deserted, but being able to do that during the day felt a little more disconcerting. Only when he approached the final staircase did he spot another living person —an Auror, in this case— walking in the opposite direction and oblivious to Harry's presence.

His hopes for the Great Hall were dashed the moment he strode through the wide doorway. It was completely empty. Only on closer examination did he spot a single wizard sitting in the far corner behind a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. The silent occupant had no reaction to Harry's arrival and continued reading lazily as Harry began walking across the hall. When he reached the front of the hall, he finally got a good look at the wizard behind the expanse of folded parchment.

"Morning, Harry," Josef greeted him lazily. "If you'd like some breakfast, the house-elves should be along shortly. They seemed a bit more... enthusiastic than usual. I guess they're ready for the students to return as well."

Harry stopped on the other side of the table from Josef, but didn't sit down just yet. "They probably figured they'd have a few more people to serve than just you," he said, adding, "I can't blame them. I figured this was where everyone would be meeting."

Josef gave a faint snort and laid the _Prophet_ down on the table next to him. "Well, you would have been right," he said flatly, then quickly added: "It's surprising, I know, but it does happen on occasion."

Harry ignored the jab. "Where are they, then?"

"Not here," Josef replied pointedly, "though not by choice. They were here and they were engrossed in a discussion which I don't doubt you would have been quite interested in. However, I had the bad form to survive and require some form of nourishment. It seems that my presence can be very upsetting to some."

"What about Ginny?"

Josef shrugged indifferently. "Well, she's never voiced any complaints, but she does have more tact than most."

"That's not what I meant," Harry replied with a frown. "Was she one of the people who were here?"

"No."

"Have you seen her since you woke up?"

"Didn't sleep."

Rolling his eyes at Josef's utter lack of helpfulness, Harry continued to prod him until he said more. "Have you seen her this morning?"

"Yes," he said after a brief pause.

Harry swallowed his frustration. "And where was that?"

Josef didn't look up from the _Prophet_. "The Hospital Wing. She was asleep when I left."

"She's still asleep?" Harry asked, looking up at the ceiling. "It's nearly eleven o' clock. Is she alright?"

Josef reached for a small cup of pumpkin juice and sipped lazily at it. "I'm not a Healer, Harry," he said with a sigh. "Though, if I had to wager a guess, I might think it has something to do with the buckets of blood she left in Romania," he said in a light, airy tone. "I was once forced to leave one of my most cloaks behind to escape a nasty band of warlocks in Madrid. I was a wreck for days. Of course," he continued, ignoring Harry's glare, "blood is replaceable and that cloak was one of a kind, but I can still see why she might be a bit broken up about it."

"That's very helpful," muttered Harry. "Did you talk to her?"

Josef turned back to his copy of the _Prophet_. "I said she was sleeping. I've stopped trying to talk to unconscious people. They just aren't very interesting."

"I suppose that's for the best. Did you talk to Ginny last night?"

"Yes."

"And?" he prompted. "Did she seem alright?"

"Well, I should hope she's been better," Josef said, flipping back to the front page. "She wasn't on fire or missing any limbs."

"Is there a good reason for your stubbornness?"

"Bad parentage, perhaps?" suggested Josef, idly. "Seems as likely as any other explanation. Of course, that was quite some time ago. It might be just as easily be this somewhat discouraging piece of toast," he said, holding up the half-eaten remnants. "Or maybe I'm deep in thought and bored with your questions."

"Deep in thought?" Harry said with a chuckle. "It's not often that the _Prophet_ puts anyone deep in thought. Did you find something particularly interesting in there?"

Josef remained tight lipped. "Hard to say," he mumbled before gnawing a little on his toast. "Not everyone finds the same sort of thing interesting. It seems the more aware one is of the world, the less interest they find in it. For instance, while your friends at the Ministry will no doubt find it fascinating, that story on the bottom of the front page would be rather tedious to you and I."

Without so much as asking, Harry quickly grabbed the _Prophet_, spinning it about on the table so that he could more easily read it. There, taking up two columns in the lower left corner, Harry found a photo of a city filled with smoking ruins. Stretching over it and the pair of columns next to it, was a bold headline:

_Bizarre Happenings in Romania Puzzle All_

A chill spread down his neck as if a cold breeze had suddenly blown through the large hall. Snatching the copy off the table and sitting down, Harry began reading through the article.

_Late last night officials in Bulgaria, Hungary, and Serbia put out an urgent call for help in handling thousands of Muggles who spotted massive fires in the Romanian wilderness. The source of the flames was the wizarding city of Orasul-de-jos, which had also been the residence of newly appointed Romanian Minister, Dragomir Debreczeni._

_Bulgarian officials were the first to become aware of the troubles when rumors began to spread through the local Muggle population of a mysterious ghost city that suddenly appeared yesterday afternoon. After failing to contact Minister Debreczeni, they immediately sent wizards in to determine exactly what had happened._

_Reports of what they found vary. The official report filed with the International Confederation of Wizards describes a city ravaged by magical fire. It is presumed that as the fire spread through the city, it destroyed key buildings and structures which were the basis of the charms which had protected the city for centuries, including those which hid it from the sight of Muggles._

_However, unofficial reports are already leaking out of Serbia and Austria where some refugees have fled. The stories they tell range from improbable to almost impossible. Some tell stories of armies of vampires lurking in the alleys, others claim to have been attacked by werewolves during the new moon while even more of them talk of a banshee who stalked the streets wearing bright red dress robes._

_The only thing they all seem to agree upon were the events of the final day. In their report to the I. C. W., the Bulgarians reported that almost all of the remaining wizards in the city spotted a group of wizards flying across the rooftops to the castle perched on the hill at the center of the city. Minutes later, a violent explosion echoed through the city._

_Despite many offers for assistance, the Bulgarian Ministry has insisted that the situation within Orasul-de-jos is under control. They have announced that the city will be closed until the Romanian Ministry can be reformed. The I. C. W. is still investigating the matter and urges anyone who might have information about the criminals involved to contact their local ministry._

"You're right," Harry said, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. "Quite boring."

"I told you so," Josef replied flatly. "You'll find something a little more worthwhile on the next page."

Harry did as he was told and found a rather large and garish advertisement that he found somewhat less than amusing. "_Wild Witches of Warwick_," he announced in a disapproving tone, "_dancing for your entertainment and pleasure. Now only two Galleons for a night of fun._" When he looked up, he found Josef frowning back at him.

"Try the second page instead of the third, Harry," he said. "That's usually the one that comes after the first page." As Harry began scanning the second page, Josef continued talking. "Though, I must say I am a little surprised at just how quickly you found that advertisement. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about, Harry? Ginny, perhaps?

"No," Harry replied firmly as he looked up from the page. "Ginny had nothing to do with it. I saw the ad because it was surrounded by flashing stars. Don't even try to pretend you didn't see it."

"I did notice it, yes," Josef said, hiding a smile. "It simply didn't hold my attention. I have little desire to pay gold to see a bunch of vapid girls with charmed blonde hair fumble about in the hope that I'll get drunk enough to pass them a few extra Galleons."

Harry let out a snort. "And yet you know that they've all charmed their hair blonde."

Josef rolled his eyes. "I don't think there's a wizarding inn or pub in all of Britain that I haven't spent time in, Harry. Of course, I should have known that your foolish principles would keep you away from such places. There were worse places, of course, but— well, I suppose I have different tastes in women."

Another time, Harry might have enjoyed pressing him to find out just what his tastes in women were. In the few months he hadn't been chasing Harry, Josef had always been tight-lipped about any sort of women in his past. Opportunities like this were rare, but Harry's attention was already focused on a small article wedged between a story about new broom regulations and a photo of the most recent winner of the Wolberg Trophy for Excellence in Potion Making.

_Turkish Ministry Denies Break-In_

If Josef said anything more, Harry didn't hear him. He quickly read through the small article, then went back to the beginning and read through it a second time. There weren't many details, but he immediately knew why Josef had directed him to it.

From what he could guess, the Turkish Ministry building in Istanbul had been broken into during the previous night. Of course, officials there denied everything, even the fact that over a dozen witches and wizards were missing and presumed to be dead. Despite a number of witnesses who claimed to see a wizard walking into the lower vaults, the Minister repeatedly insisted that nothing had been stolen. The very last line was the one that troubled him the most.

"They want to meet with the Bulgarian Minister," Harry announced, paraphrasing the end of the article.

"Yes," Josef said, smiling. "That's a bit curious, isn't it? It's obvious that someone made it into their vaults. They insist that nothing was stolen, yet they want to talk with the Bulgarians who are quite obviously busy with these problems in Romania." He raised an eyebrow. "It's interesting that the Bulgarians were so willing to take responsibility for the city, isn't it? They didn't even ask for one bit of help." He paused to scratch his chin. "I wonder how long it will take before they find the Veil Chamber."

"They already have," murmured Harry. "That's why they're there. Will they know what it is?"

"Did you?" Josef said with a frown. "They're not idiots, Harry. There are more Veils than you might think. They might not know what it is now, but they'll know what it _was_. I'm certain they're quite interested in just what happened to it, though not nearly as interested as the Turkish Ministry."

"Wait," Harry said, leaning closer. "How could they know the Veil in Romania was destroyed? Why would the Bulgarians—"

"They wouldn't tell them, that's just the problem," Josef interrupted. "All they see are reports of the heavy use of dark magic and Bulgaria trying to hide it from the world. Ordinarily, that wouldn't warrant all that much excitement, but after the attack on their vaults—"

"—They'll think that Bulgaria had something to do with it."

"Precisely," said Josef with a nod. "You need to understand how serious this sort of thing is. Britain is not the only nation attempting to unravel the mystery behind the Veils' power. This is a serious loss for Turkey. The Bulgarians will be quick to deny any part in the attack."

Josef didn't have to explain much more. Harry sat back in his seat and stared up at the clouds drifting across the ceiling. "They'll blame the band of wizards everyone saw flying toward the Castle."

A slow smile spread across Josef's face. "Happy, are you?" he asked. "I've spent the last year trying to keep the Brotherhood from killing you and your friends and less than a week after I succeed, you've turned the lot of us into criminals."

"Well, it's not like it's the first time," commented Harry. "I know you're not going to be troubled by it. You'd be more put out if I forced you to live an ordinary life." He shrugged. "It's just not very threatening. I managed to run from the Brotherhood for a year."

"And Ginny?" Josef prompted in a more serious tone. "She works for the Ministry, now. She can't run away like you've gotten so good at doing. Neither can Hermione. While he might not have been the Dark Lord you thought he was, Auguste Reynard is not your ally and he won't let Hermione slip away. Even Ron is in danger. There are quite a few more matches in the Quidditch World Cup that he will need to attend."

Harry shook his head. "None of that matters. We flew out of the sky on a sunny day. We were moving too fast. There's no way anyone in the street could identify us and anyone closer would have known we were there to protect them."

"And yet, the fact remains that you allowed yourselves to be seen, creating the appearance that a cult of dark wizards is responsible for the attack. A year ago, no one would have ever believed them, but the Brotherhood has been sloppy lately."

Annoyance began to build in Harry's chest. "What were we supposed to do? We needed to know what was happening."

"Don't misunderstand me, Harry. I would have done the same and that in itself is a little troubling. Fate was against you. Even if the Bulgarians and the Turks never know who flew over the city, they'll know that someone was there. When they read about the other attacks, they'll start watching closer. The paranoia will spread across Europe and it's going to make it even harder for us to do whatever it takes to end it."

"When they _read_ about the other attacks?" questioned Harry, noting the odd choice of words. "Are there other attacks to read about?"

Josef flashed a crooked smile. "You're getting better at that," he said as he reached across the table and flipped the _Prophet_ revealing its back page. "I can't say for certain, but there are no such things as simple coincidences, right?"

Harry quickly scanned the blocks of text. Now that he had a better idea of what Josef had been looking for, it didn't take long to find it:

_Festival at Knossos to Continue Without Chairman_

_New Year Festival organizers in Crete announced the sudden disappearance of the annual celebration's chairman, Theodore Volakis, just two days before the event was scheduled to begin. Cynthia Saatsakis, his assistant, has assumed his duties in his absence and assured all attendees that this year's festival will be just as entertaining as last year's._

_Saatsakis was less willing to talk about just why Volakis left. She credits his actions to growing stress over arranging the international agreements used to transport magical creatures to the event. "I don't think he slept for a week while we tried to work with Swiss to get a Graphorn," she reported. "And with the festival only two days away, we've been flooded with all manner of requests. I think it was too much for a wizard his age. He's probably relaxing on some beach."_

The rest of the short article was devoted to showcasing the upcoming celebration and convincing everyone just how amazing it would be. To be honest, Harry had never really heard of any New Year's festival in Crete and he wondered whether Madam Saatsakis was using her missing supervisor as a way of promoting the event —and herself.

"There really isn't much to work with there," Harry said. "There is every reason to believe that he just wanted to get away."

"There are loads better New Year's celebrations," commented Josef. "I didn't even know Knossos held one. If I spent most of my life organizing that one, I might want to slip off some year to go to one of the really brilliant ones. You know, just to see what it was supposed to be like."

"It sounds like he's not young, either. With all that stress of people bothering you when it really shouldn't matter, it's easy to see why he might want to relax a bit before the big day."

"And don't forget that Saatsakis woman," Josef added. "She's taking all of this pretty well. From the way it's written, she sounded almost excited that he was gone. She might have snuffed him for the promotion."

"It's definitely possible."

"Of course, he might have offed himself."

"Suicide? It didn't sound like he was—"

"Not suicide, no," Josef said a dismissive wave, "but as you said, he's old and the palace at Knossos is even older. Who knows where some of those passageways lead? If he decided to wander about and fell down some shaft, it might be years before anyone found him."

"Yes, that's a good point," replied Harry. "He could have been looking for some peace and quiet and ended up buried under a pile of stone when some ceiling collapsed." Josef nodded enthusiastically. Harry let out a long sigh and stared at him. "So, you really think this is another attack?"

"Don't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted, "it sure feels like it." He ran his hand through his hair and scanned the beginning of the article again. There were plenty of reasons for suspicion. Volakis had disappeared the same night that the Turkish ministry was broken into and only hours after Harry and the others had escaped Romania. The catacombs beneath it were hidden from Muggles. "Knossos is really old," he said, recalling one of Josef's comments. "Who knows where some of those passageways lead?"

"The Minoans were very advanced for their time," added Josef. "There were some very powerful wizards there at one time. There's no telling what they managed to do with the power they collected —or what the power collected there might have done to them."

"If there was a Veil there, why would it have affected anyone else? The one in Romania—"

"—was damaged, yes," Josef finished for him. "It's influence was much greater than one with an intact arch and yet, Auguste Reynard still exists. I cannot believe the Veil played no part in Reynard's growing ambition and paranoia. The Veils' effects are often subtle, Harry, but it would be enough to turn an otherwise unremarkable city into a center of magical power."

"It's been a long time since Knossos was a center of anything. If they did have a Veil and it was destroyed like the one in Romania, why wouldn't the Greeks be investigating it like the Turks?"

"The answer seems simple," Josef replied calmly. "They don't know. As you said, Knossos has been virtually dead for millennia. Someone must have sealed off the chamber. Somewhere over the course of history, some wizard with more foresight than his ancestors saw the threat the Veil posed and hid it to protect himself and everyone that would come after him."

Harry's mind churned with thoughts. "It would have to be isolated from the rest of the palace. Probably somewhere in the less used areas. There'd be fewer people to stumble across it. The entrance is probably disguised rather than blocked by rubble. People are always more curious about things when they know something is on the other side."

Harry stood up and nudged the _Prophet_ back toward Josef. He took a moment to tie his cloak before pulling his wand from his pocket.

"Got plans for the day?" Josef asked in a casual tone.

"Looks like it," Harry replied.

"You're not going to do anything foolish, are you?"

"Well, I haven't thought of anything else to do, so that is a distinct possibility."

Josef began to stand up. "I should—"

"You should stay here," Harry said firmly. "If I happen to cross paths with this thing again, I can't trust you'll still be yourself."

"Oh, but you're immune, are you?"

"Well, if I'm not then it doesn't really matter if you're there or not," he replied. "I'd rather not bring extra enemies if I have the choice. I'm planning on slipping in and out without being noticed."

"Yeah, that's the sort of foolish idea I was expecting from you," Josef said with a grunt. "Now that you're a celebrity again, you can barely slip in and out of a pair of socks without running a chance of having someone shout your name. You used to be safe outside Britain, but now you've been spotted at the Quidditch World Cup matches and photos of that idiotic celebration in October have spread all over the place."

"Well I didn't have much choice, did I?"

"Of course you did," Josef replied sharply, showing a hint of annoyance. "If you'd have asked for help or assistance or even another option, I might have been able to do something. Instead you just marched off without thinking about the consequences. You couldn't understand just how much you were being manipulated. You couldn't see the problems it would cause in the future. You couldn't even control your—" Josef cut himself off sharply and stared down at the table. "You made a lot of mistakes that day and you still haven't finished paying for all of them."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Josef sat silently for a moment, quickly returning to his usual calm demeanor. "Listen to me, Harry. You've thrown yourself back into the public eye. If you go to Knossos, someone will notice you," Josef began explaining slowly. "It may not matter all that much right now, but if we're right, someone is going to realize what's happened there and start looking at anything odd that's happened there. They're not going to know exactly what day it happened, but they'll find out that you were there the day after the attacks in Romania and Istanbul. I hope you're aware of what that would mean."

"Oh, I'm well aware. That's why I won't be going there. You will." With a sudden motion, Harry's hand darted across the table to pinch a few of Josef's hairs. With a sharp tug, they pulled free and hung limply in Harry's grasp.

"That's hardly any better," Josef remarked.

Harry smiled in response. "I disagree. You're far less noticeable than I am —as you were just explaining— and even more importantly, you'll be spending the day surrounded by Aurors and well respected witches and wizards. Even if someone claims to have seen you, you'll have loads of well respected witches and wizards to verify that you spent the entire day —and the day before and after— right here."

Josef sat back and gave him an indifferent shrug. "Good luck, then."

Feeling somewhat triumphant, Harry turned to walk away, but paused a moment. "Er, if she asks, tell Ginny that I, er..."

"That you've fallen in love with a Muggle woman and joined a band of wandering gypsies?" offered Josef with a crooked smile.

"Right," snorted Harry. "That'll do fine."

* * *

Once he reached Hogsmeade, Harry Disapparated to a run down old pub in Nottingham. He slipped into one of the darkened back rooms to down a dose of Polyjuice Potion before making his way to the fireplace and spinning away with a rush of green flame. 

Seconds later he arrived in a bright, sunlit room filled with the smell of liquor and the murmuring of a few dozen patrons. A few of them sitting at the tables closest to the fireplace paused long enough to give him disinterested looks before turning back to their drinks. Without so much as a nod, he walked through the collection of tables and chairs, past the distracted barman and out the door.

Harry had been to Athens a few times before. He'd never learned a single word of Greek and never really found much need of it. None of his visits had lasted much more than an hour. Now he was beginning to wish he'd taken the opportunity to learn a little more of the language —or of the streets of Athens, at the very least.

A large city in its own right, for wizards Athens was a sort of crossroads between the bulk of Europe and the wizarding cultures throughout Asia. If it could be boxed or caged, you could find someone in Athens willing to sell it to you. Everything from Chinese Fireballs to South American Venomous Tomatoes could be bought in the dim alleyways branching off one of the many wizarding streets, and wizards came from around the world to buy them. It was this particular fact that had always kept his stays short. You could never tell just who would be passing through the city.

In those days, he'd come to Athens looking for a place to hide or a way to escape the Brotherhood. Now he'd come back to look for information. He hoped that the palace at Knossos would be connected to the local Floo Network, but he had no idea just what he'd need to say to get there. It seemed likely that it might be Greek and he'd have a hard time saying it well enough to get there even if he did manage to find someone who would understand him well enough to tell him just what he needed to say.

The street was noisier and more crowded than he had remembered it. It was nearly impossible to even spot likely shops or pubs which might be able to help him. He was starting to think that he might have made a mistake. Of course, none of the other options seemed any better. He knew it would have been unlikely to find the right name of his destination at Hogwarts and he couldn't very well ask the Ministry for help. Asking strange questions there was one sure way of being certain that everyone would know something odd had happened.

Of course, the same went for Athens. If he went too many places jabbering about wanting to get to Knossos, someone would take notice and Josef's prediction would almost certainly come true. He didn't need all that much. It was a simple question. If he asked the right person, he would seem like nothing more than a simple tourist. He ran through the list Josef had given him so long ago:

_No Ministry employees: You never know who they report to. No barmen: They're too loud and willing to talk to other people. No attractive witches: They're too likely to remember you. No banks: People in banks are always too suspicious. No—_

Harry came to a sudden halt. That was the answer. Gringott's had a bank in Athens. If he could find it, the goblins would be able to help him. Asking for directions to a bank was much less conspicuous than the possible site of a dark wizard attack.

He picked a promising looking wizard who was walking casually in the opposite direction. He had a pleasant smile on his face and a small bag of fresh flowers in his hand. Adopting a pleasant but slightly worried expression, Harry approached him slowly.

"Gringott's?" he asked, pointing down the street in the direction he'd been walking.

The man paused and gave Harry an odd look. He looked back over his shoulder then began speaking quickly in Greek. Harry shook his head to say that he didn't understand.

"Gringott's," the man said slowly, pointing back behind Harry, toward a street that branched off the main avenue.

Harry nodded and smiled, thanking him in poorly accented Romanian. This seemed to please the man and he nodded as well before continuing on his way. Harry turned and began walking a little faster. The smaller street wasn't far away and when he reached it he was happy to see that the crowd was thinning out a little.

The street was narrower and a little more dim, but it made Harry feel a little less exposed. After walking for less than a minute, he spotted a tall white building standing taller than the those flanking it. It had a familiar look to it and Harry felt glad to see it.

"They're not going to let you in," a soft voice spoke in flawless English.

Harry spun around quickly, looking for the source, but saw no one.

"Not looking like that, at least," it said. Harry turned the opposite direction and found a slender woman standing frighteningly close to him. Her pale face was mostly obscured by the hood of her gauzy white cloak.

"Why not?" Harry asked, trying not to look as shaken as he was.

"They haven't forgotten," she whispered. "They don't seem to care why you did all of it. You've said it yourself a hundred times: Goblins only see reason when it's wrapped in gold."

"I said that, did I?" Harry replied, suddenly remembering how he appeared. "Well, they'll listen this time."

"They won't," she said with soft finality. "They've already spotted you. They're preparing to bar the doors right now." As she spoke, Harry turned to look toward the massive stone building. A number of small shapes were gathering around the doors. She was right. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Now he'd have to wait for the Polyjuice Potion to wear off.

"I could have done it for you," she said hesitantly. "I— All you had to do was send word and I would have done it. I heard the news, but I didn't think—" She paused a moment, then shook her head. "I don't know what I thought. It's... almost too much to believe," she said, sounding almost frightened. A second later, she straightened up and stared up at Harry with light grey eyes. "We can talk about that later. You're not getting in there today. The flat is still in order. We can go there if you'd like to relax or—"

"I don't have time, I need to talk with them today," insisted Harry.

"Well, we could go to Rome," she suggested. "They haven't seen me. They probably wouldn't even suspect I had anything to do with your, er... attempt to meet with them here."

Harry began pacing back and forth in the shadows of a closed shop. "That's not going to help me. No one in Rome will know how to get to Knossos and I'm running out of time. So unless you know a good fireplace at Knossos which is open to the Floo Network, I'm wasting my time talking with you."

"Floo Network— No, I..." she stammered a little. "I don't know much about the local Floo Network, but, well... I mean, we could Apparate to Knossos, but if you need to use the Floo—"

"You can Apparate there?" Harry asked with sudden excitement. "You know how to do it secretly?"

"Of— Of course," she replied shakily, "but we don't need to do it in secret. The palace has been open to visitors all week. I can take both of us there and we can go wherever you need."

Harry would have had them leave that moment but the cloaked witch insisted that they not Disapparate from a public street. In all of her actions and mannerisms she displayed the mark of Brotherhood training. As she led him through the streets she kept herself in the shadowy side, never letting them get too far from some alley or shop to duck into should danger suddenly show itself.

She said nothing at all as they walked and eventually it began to worry Harry. It was obvious that she knew Josef well, but he had never seen her before and had no idea who she was or what she was doing in Athens. When he broke the silence to ask her where they were headed, she gave him an annoyed glare, as though speech itself was taboo. In hushed tones she told him the something that sounded like an address. He assumed that Josef would have recognized it immediately.

At the end of a darkened alleyway they passed through a fake wall and ascended a long, twisting staircase. At the very top was a heavy iron door with a series of ornate locks. The girl took a ring of keys from her cloak and carefully unlocked the door, using her wand on the very last keyhole. Harry followed close behind her as she stepped through the doorway.

Walking into the room, he had to concentrate to keep himself from showing any sign of his surprise. It was a single room but it was larger than any flat he'd ever been in. It had the feeling of a long hall, with a high arched ceiling and a pair of small windows at the far end.

The girl quickly kicked off the light sandals she'd been wearing and walked barefoot across the dark slate floor. Harry hung back trying to inspect the rest of the dim space around him. Torches and candles were coming alive all down the length of the room. The walls on either side of him were covered with small paintings, shelves of books and small cupboards filled with potions or the ingredients for making them.

Trying to appear as comfortable as possible, he continued walking. The girl had stopped near the large four-poster bed that stood against the wall in the very center of the room. It seemed like a reasonable destination for someone who'd been there before, so he adjusted his course a little and sat down, trying not to wrinkle the deep red bedsheets stretched across it.

He watched in surprise as the girl pulled back the hood on her cloak to reveal coppery red hair tied up in a pair of tight plaits. The cloak suddenly made quite a bit of sense. Red hair would make her rather conspicuous in Athens, even with all the wizards trafficking through it.

"Something on your mind?" she asked slowly. Harry woke up from his thoughts and found her watching him with a curious look on her face. "I... assumed you were in a hurry. Of course, if you'd like some time to... relax—"

"No," he replied quickly. "No, I really don't have time."

She nodded gracefully. "Perhaps later," she said with a smile. After placing her wand on the chair with her cloak, she reached down to grab the very bottom of her robes. Without any warning, she pulled them up over her head in a single, swift motion. In the brief second before he jerked his head away instinctively, he noticed a tight, black bodice wrapped around her torso but not much else.

"Is something wrong?" she asked with audible concern. Harry forced himself to look up and tried not to think about what Ginny would do if she knew that he was in a room with another girl wearing nothing but her underwear.

"No, no," he said shakily, trying not to stare at her. "I just... haven't been feeling quite like myself today."

Her face fell slightly. "Oh. I suppose that's understandable." She didn't press him for details and so Harry felt that he'd found a reasonable response. Leaving her robes on the chair with her cloak and wand she walked over to stand in front of him and inspect the clothes he was wearing.

As she leaned forward to examine his robes, he couldn't help but notice the dull shine of dragonhide on the bodice she was wearing. Allowing himself a quick glance, he saw that it was very similar to the armor he'd given Ginny though —unfortunately, for Harry— not nearly as covering.

"Will I need this?" she asked, tapping on the hard dragonhide.

"I'd hope not—" began Harry. Almost as soon as he answered, her hands began working on the straps that held it snug. "Wait—" he said quickly, not wanting things to get any worse. "Leave it. It can't hurt. It's best to be safe in this instance."

She nodded slowly, tucking the strap back into place and making her way to a nearby wardrobe. After a minute of silent searching, she pulled out a set of dark green robes and threw them on the bed next to Harry. "You're unusually quiet today," she said, glancing at him suspiciously out of the corner of her eyes. "Is something happening? Are we in danger?"

"No, I— I don't believe we are," Harry answered, trying to emulate Josef as much as he could. "No more than we were a few weeks ago, at least."

She continued to watch him as she rummaged through an old trunk, pulling out pairs of shoes as if searching for one particular pair. "You didn't even ask for a report."

"I didn't believe it really mattered," Harry replied flatly. He searched his mind, trying to think of something to say. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "I didn't arrive the normal way." It was one of the few things he knew was true.

Her head jerked toward him, flashing an almost insulted expression. "You walked right past the meeting point," she said. "You said you'd turn me in to the Greek Ministry if I ever missed you again."

"So you didn't see me before then?" Harry asked quickly.

"Maybe a minute before," she answered in a slightly apologetic voice. "I'm sorry. I know I should have been paying more attention. It's just that— Well, I was starting to worry that you... you weren't... coming back."

Harry's discomfort faded and he looked up at her. She looked as though she might be close to tears.

"I waited for you on the fifth, and I kept on waiting all week. I was worried, but there wasn't anything I could do, was there? I knew something was wrong. It had to be. I started looking for any sign and finally found a message from Dragomir, the one ordering everyone to Romania. The last time everyone had been called back to Romania Grigore was killed and he took a dozen others with him. I tried to contact you. I tried to tell you not to go but nothing worked. The longer I waited, the more I worried. I tried to find any of the other member, but it was pointless. They'd all gone back to the Castle."

"But you didn't?"

"Of course I didn't!" she said, sounding hurt. "You refused—" she began, then cut herself short and took a deep breath. "You've made it very clear that I haven't earned my place in the Brotherhood yet and now I guess I never will," she said with a little bitterness. "Of course, if I had, I'd probably be dead —or worse. I suppose I should thank you for that."

Something didn't make sense. "If you didn't go back and couldn't get any messages, how do you know what happened to the Brotherhood?"

For the first time, the girl was the one who seemed horribly uncomfortable. "I— I know it's forbidden. I know I'm not even supposed to know about any of the others, but— but I do. When you didn't show up, I felt like I—" The girl quickly grabbed her robes off the bed and turned around as if she were suddenly embarrassed by her appearance. She continued talking as she slipped her arms into the robes, her voice shaky and weak.

"I sent messages to the rest of them, hoping that one of them might have heard something. I... I know I didn't find them all but I had to try. One by one, the replies came back, but it was all the same. One of them —Andrea I think her name was— decided she would go to Orasul-de-jos." She turned around, her robes only partially buttoned and remorse in her eyes.

"I knew it was dangerous. Even if nothing was wrong she was risking her life. The Brotherhood wouldn't approve. And if our fears were correct— I knew she shouldn't have gone, but... I had to know if... if you—"

She never completed her sentence. She turned around again and finished with the buttons, checking her appearance in a nearby mirror. Satisfied, she walked back across the room to put on a pair of dark leather sandals she'd tossed from the trunk earlier.

"She sent back a single message," she explained. "She'd made it into the city, but she couldn't leave. She said the city was under attack, but no one knew who was doing it. There was a group of wizards taking shelter near the gate. She said she was with them and that she'd send another message when she found out where the Brotherhood was. I waited, but no more messages came. I— I knew she was dead, but I always hoped that you—"

"And you didn't leave your post?" Harry asked, impressed at the girl's loyalty and sense of duty. "You stayed here, just watching and waiting?"

"That's what you brought me here to do," she said with a little more confidence. "I promised you I'd never betray you." Turning away again, she reached into the trunk and pulled out a small necklace with a dark blue stone set in a gold pendant. "And I— I didn't have anything else," she said softly as she clasped the chain behind her neck.

Harry was left not knowing just how to respond. Josef rarely showed any emotion beyond the occasional flash of pride or annoyance. To display pity, even for a witch who he obviously knew quite well, seemed rather uncharacteristic of him. In the end, silence seemed to be very best answer, and the girl accepted it without any sign of distress or surprise. Instead, whatever emotions she'd been feeling seemed to drain away as she went about the room, picking up her wand and tossing things back in the trunk and wardrobe.

When the last pair of shoes had jumped back into the trunk, she ran her wand along each of the plaits in her hair, making them unravel immediately and unleashing a sheet of shimmering red hair which stretched down past her shoulders.

"Better?" she asked lightly.

"Er, better than what?"

"You always say it looks better when it's down," she explained slowly. "It gets in the way when I'm wearing a cloak, but I figure we'll want to look like a normal couple. Cloaks are too concealing for normal people."

Harry nodded his agreement. It was clear that Harry wasn't the only person Josef had been teaching. He'd probably be angry when he heard that she had allowed herself to be fooled by something as simple as Polyjuice Potion, and Harry might have felt guilty about it if he didn't know that Josef would have asked her to help if he knew they would have met.

Once she was finished tossing her hair about, the girl wasted no more time in preparing to leave. With her wand in one hand, she reached for Harry, urging him to put his arm around her. Hesitantly, he followed her instructions and before he had any time to prepare, he felt the crushing, squeezing feeling of Disapparation. An instant later it was gone and he found himself standing in a wide courtyard paved with rough stones.

"Welcome to Knossos!" chimed an elderly witch.

She greeted them both warmly and quickly led them off toward a large brick structure. As they walked she explained that they were walking toward the main palace. Harry thought it looked much more like some sort of primitive fortress. It certainly didn't look very luxurious.

"Are you going to be coming back for the New Year's Festival?" the woman asked as they approached what Harry assumed to be the front gate.

"Oh, we really don't know yet," the girl answered brightly. She tugged playfully at Harry's arm and gave him a lopsided smile. "He can't make up his mind. I thought if we came to have a look about the place I might be able to convince him." She leaned closer to the old woman and dropped her voice to a whisper. "He doesn't always like new places, you see."

The woman smiled and nodded. "Well, you'll see that Knossos really is a wonderful place. It is unlike any other place in the world and yet everyone who comes here finds something to make them feel like they're home."

The passed through the gate and found themselves in a surprisingly cramped space. The ceiling was rather high and yet through a combination of the odd, crooked shape of the room and a dazzlingly bizarre collection of furniture and artifacts, Harry was left wondering if someone had designed the hall to make visitors want to leave. Small clumps of wizards were wandering around the hall, pointing at the more unexplainable trinkets.

"If you wish to see the palace a little more, I'd highly recommend one of our tours. The groups are usually fairly small and the guides speak many languages. I believe there is a English group starting in about ten minutes if you care to wait."

Harry nodded distractedly. He didn't really know what else to do. There were far more people than he would have liked and the woman speaking with them was far too helpful. Allowing himself to be led away from the first hall through a corridor that felt even more cramped, he began to wonder if it was too late to try and pass himself off as some sort of official guest worthy of talking to Madam Saatsakis.

The witch leading them stopped at the foot of a brick staircase and motioned toward a group of witches and wizards standing nearby. "All of these people are waiting for the next palace tour. I believe the guide will be along shortly. He's really very knowledgeable. He'll show you all of the most interesting parts of the palace."

Further down the corridor, Harry heard a voice speaking English over the sound of shuffling feet. "Is that him?" Harry asked.

"Oh no," the woman said softly. "That's Anthony. He's leading a tour into the cellars today."

"The cellars," repeated Harry. He felt his spine tingle at the thought. There were tunnels under Knossos, just like the Castle in Romania and the Ministry in London. "How large are these cellars?" he asked.

"Fairly extensive, I'm told," the woman replied. "Of course, I've barely seen them myself. They're not nearly as interesting as the palace itself. Oh, there's the occasional fresco and some nice carvings, but for the most part it's fairly bleak. The normal tours try to focus on the more impressive parts of the palace."

"I think I'd like to see the cellars, if I could," Harry said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

The woman looked troubled. "There really isn't much to see..."

The girl on his arm smiled and leaned forward conspiratorially again. "He simply _adores_ old cellars and catacombs," she said. "We went to Paris last winter. I thought I was never going to get him out of those tunnels."

"Oh, I see..." the older witch said with a frown. "Well, perhaps— I suppose Anthony wouldn't really mind. I think he's just beginning..." With a few worried glances back at Harry, she quickly scurried down the corridor calling for the other wizard. After a brief conversation, Anthony happily agreed to let Harry and the girl with him join the group.

The immediately began descending a long staircase cut into the very rock foundation of the castle. After only a short distance it leveled out and the guide began talking about the dozens of storerooms which lined either side of the tunnel. Harry was just about to regret his decision when they passed through a smaller, roughly cut tunnel and emerged into a deep circular shaft looking very much like an enormous well. They began climbing down another set of stairs, but these looked and felt quite a bit different than any other he'd seen at the palace. These wound around the shaft in a spiral pattern, in stark contrast to the straight, blocky staircases they'd seen on the surface.

Harry could not yet see the bottom of the shaft, but he could hear the guide's voice echoing up from below. "The palace itself was abandoned thirty-five hundred years ago after a severe earthquake killed dozens of wizards and Muggles. After that, it was thought to be cursed. It took a hundred years before anyone came back and when they did, they found all of the paths down to the catacombs blocked by rubble or charmed doors. It wasn't until fifteen years ago that we managed to find this shaft. We've been doing our best to map out the lower level, but there are only three of us and they are much more extensive than we expected."

Harry smiled at the news. It was starting to seem more and more likely that he was on the right path. The girl was walking ahead of him and she turned back to see him smiling. She said nothing but the expression on her face told Harry that she knew they were getting closer to whatever he was looking for.

A few minutes later, Harry's legs were starting to ache. Just when he was starting to hope for a bit of a rest, they came to the very bottom of the shaft. It formed something of a circular room, though the ceiling stretched off so far above them it made him dizzy just looking for it. With his legs feeling tired and shaky, he nearly fell over in the attempt. The girl was standing next to him, showing no fatigue at all.

Luckily for Harry, the guide took a moment to explain the story of the very first wizards to uncover the shaft they were standing in. Harry didn't really care. He needed a moment to recover and the story truly was rather boring. Crouching in the shadows near the only passage leading out of the shaft, he reached into his robes to fetch the small bottle of Polyjuice Potion. He'd hoped he wouldn't need more than an hour, but it didn't look promising. Tipping back the bottle, he tried not to choke on the bitter tasting potion.

"What's that?" the girl asked quietly.

"Oh, nothing," he said, quickly slipping it back into his pocket. "Just something to help keep me awake," he lied. "I haven't been sleeping much."

She nodded and wandered off for a little longer, scanning the ground and even stopping to listen to the guide. Eventually, she returned and stood next to him with a look of extreme boredom. "What are we looking for?" she whispered without looking down at him.

"I don't know for certain," he lied, hoping that the girl would be used to such answers from Josef.

She accepted it as easily as he hoped, but it didn't stop her from asking questions. "Where do you expect to find it?"

He contemplated the answer for a while. There was some value in telling her the truth. If there was nothing to find, then it wouldn't really mean anything to her. If he did find what he expected, there was little chance he'd be able to hide it from her.

"Somewhere deep," Harry whispered. "Somewhere protected. A circular chamber with only one entrance or some sort of enchanted doorway," he said, listing off all of the similarities he could think of. "And perhaps snakes," he added.

She accepted all of it silently then walked off and pretended to be fascinated by the masonry of the stairs. Eventually the guide finished his tale and began leading the group through the doorway next to Harry.

"As we explore the rest of the tunnels I would caution you to stay close to the group," he announced over the hushed chatter of the group. "Everyone is very uptight about the upcoming festival and the guards don't appreciate trying to track down stragglers, so do keep up."

Harry waited until everyone had passed and joined the very back of the group. The tunnel they entered was even more boring than their guide. It seemed to stretch on forever and their guide had something to say for every step. Over ten minutes passed before there was anything more interesting than the arched walls of the tunnel to look at.

"We call this the First Hall," Anthony announced as they entered a long chamber with a number of doorways cut into all sides of it. Harry couldn't help but notice how similar it looked to the Guards' Hall in Romania. "Volakis was the first wizard who managed to open any of these doorways. They were all blocked when we first found the hall. He could tell you all some hilarious stories about all the things we tried to get them open. He's on a bit of a holiday at the moment, but I'm sure he'll be back before the new year."

Harry forced himself to be patient at the guide droned on about all the work they'd put into mapping the tunnels as he led them off through one of the doorways and into more empty halls and dusty storerooms. Finally he began to feel a little more hope as the corridor they were walking through began descending steeply. Eventually, the sloping floor became a set of roughly hewn steps. The corridor seemed to get narrower and narrower until they were forced to squeeze through a large fissure to enter into the next large hall.

"We are now under Kephala Hill," Anthony announced as though this would have some obvious meaning to everyone. "These are believed to be some of the oldest parts of the tunnels with some chambers dating back more than five thousand years."

Harry felt his heart beating a little faster. Thought he had never put all that much thought into it, he now realized that the deeper levels of the tunnels under the Castle in Romania had a rather distinct appearance. It became more apparent now that he recognized the same patterns in the halls he was currently walking through.

Their guide led from from hall to hall, pointing out the last traces of some ancient inhabitation before everyone had fled so many years ago. Harry's eyes searched each chamber for some sign of the Veil: a doorway they couldn't go through or a darkened corridor which was forbidden. Instead, he was flooded with information about where each broken doorway led and which wizard had explored it.

As the rest of the group descended yet another stairway, he and the girl hung back to investigate an old hearth under a blackened arch. Just like every other time he'd stopped, there was nothing. He reluctantly rejoined the group and felt his hope draining away as the guide talked about the large fresco which stretched across half of the chamber they had just entered.

"While this is a beautiful work of art, it's generally held in contempt by most of us. All of the other chambers in this area are terribly old and all traces of art have been stripped from the walls," he said, sounding truly saddened. "This wall had the last remaining fresco, but it's been almost entirely covered by another newer fresco from the time just before the earthquake. It is a great tragedy," he insisted. "It appears that the work underneath it was both very elegant and very unique."

With one last mournful look at the wall, he turned and began leading the group back up the staircase they had just come down. Harry was preparing to follow them, when he looked down at the floor and froze.

Set into the smooth stone of the floor was a large pattern of slightly darker stone. From his position near the doorway, he could just make out the wide circle. Not far from him, there was a break in the line. Kneeling down, he could see that at one time, it had been crossed by another line pointing toward the center of the circle. It had been chipped away some time ago, leaving a rough notch in the floor. Looking around the rest of the circle he found another notch and then the third.

He had found it. It had to be the antechamber.

The girl understood immediately. As the guides voice began again, then two of them quickly pressed themselves against the wall on either side of the doorway and waited for the group to leave the area. A minute after the last trace of sound they nodded to each other and walked back out into the center of the room.

"So what are we here to find?" she asked after a moment of awkward silence.

"A door," Harry replied, starting to doubt himself. The room was almost perfectly round and there was only a single break in the wall and it led back up the staircase they had walked down. There was no arch, no engraved doors, no symbols or marking to lead the way. With nothing else to guide him, he walked across the chamber to the point directly opposite the staircase. He found himself staring at the rough and crumbling edge of the fresco. Though he tried over and over again, nothing he did could make any set of doors reveal itself.

"Over here!" the girl called enthusiastically. "Snakes! There are snakes behind the fresco!"

Harry ran over to her side and nearly shouted when he spotted them: A pair of snakes wound up from the floor, forming a tall arch. At the very top, partially hidden by a pair of griffons, the two snakes crossed and could be seen sinking their fangs into the other. Looking even closer, he could see the tiniest crack following the inside edge of the snakes.

They had found the doors.

The girl tried a number of spells to try and get them open, but nothing worked. The best she'd been able to manage was make the edges glow a bright orange. "Face it," she announced in a frustrated voice, "they're thoroughly charmed. I don't think we can open them without brining the whole chamber down. Whatever you're looking for on the other side, it's safe. It can't be opened."

Harry wasn't so sure. In fact, now that he was here, he was almost certain that he wasn't the first to find the door. In some places along the crack, the miniature the fresco had been chipped. Looking down at the floor, he could still see the powdered plaster. "It can be opened," he said as stared up at the image of the two snakes' heads, "and I think I know just how." The question was just to do it without revealing himself.

Suddenly, footsteps were echoing down the stairs behind them. A second later, he heard an authoritative voice shouting commands in a foreign language. If they were lucky, it would only be a guard coming to arrest them. Harry felt his body tense up and without thinking he drew his wand and held it ready. The girl did the same, though she didn't seem to look worried at all. The movement was quick but fluid and restrained. They were the cold, calculated action of someone who'd been trained for dangerous situations.

Even through the echoes, it was clear that more than one wizard was approaching. Three seemed a better guess, but it would be impossible to tell three from a dozen. It wouldn't matter either. The stairway was narrow with room for no more than two to walk side by side. That meant that at least one would be shielded from any attack and free to run off to raise an alarm. He couldn't block it either; it was their only way out.

While he struggled to think of a plan, the girl had sprung into action without warning. Her wand still held tightly in one hand, she gave Harry a rough shove. He lost his balance immediately and felt himself stumble backward as she leaped toward him. With a single sharp movement, she plucked his wand from his hand and pinned him against the fresco behind him. He prepared for a hex of some sort, but found himself completely unprepared for what she did next.

Curling her arms around his neck and shoulders, she tugged his face down to hers and pressed their lips together fiercely. His mind reeled in shock as a bolt of panic struck him. Every muscle in his body wanted to push her away, but he suddenly realized what she was doing. Looking down at her, he saw her eyes open briefly to glare demandingly at him. Giving in, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

The footsteps from the stairway became much sharper. They were no longer echoes, but the clear sound of heavy boots on polished stone. Harry forced himself to close his eyes, relying on the girl kissing him to know what she was doing. He didn't have much of a choice. If the guard wasn't the sort to give warnings, he didn't have a wand to defend himself with.

Another barked command echoed off the domed ceiling, but the girl didn't break the kiss, opting to ignore the sound so thoroughly that Harry began to wonder if the shouting had come from his own conscience. A second later, all doubt disappeared.

"_Attention!_" a heavily accented voice shouted. "You two! Stop and present yourselves!"

This time the girl responded almost immediately. Looking just as shocked as Harry felt, she whirled about with a rather convincing blush. With one hand clutching at her robes making it look as though they had been open a second earlier, she cowered behind him.

For his part, Harry had no trouble looking completely horrified. Standing at the other end of the hall were four stern-looking wizards in bright red robes. The one in front had dark eyes and a severe expression which did nothing to make Harry feel any more hopeful that the situation would end peacefully. This wasn't helped in the least by the fact that he could feel the girl slipping one wand into his pocket and gripping the other in her free hand. He tried to get her attention long enough to warn her not to try anything, but her eyes were locked on the head guard.

He was frowning now, but it appeared to be more out of patronizing disapproval than true anger. In a low growl, he addressed the others behind him. As a group, the three of them turned and began walking back up the stairs, the last wizard turning to laugh silently at them.

The remaining wizard lowered his wand and rubbed his eyes. "This is not a plaza or a park or some public beach," he said gruffly. "This is not a place for —what do you call it now— snogging? Such a vulgar word, but it feels appropriate in this case. This is a site of great history and pride and these corridors are still not well known. You could get lost down here. You wouldn't be the first," he added, brandishing a finger at them.

"We're very sorry," the girl apologized meekly from her hiding spot behind him.

"Oh, no. I don't think you understand," the guard replied with a stiff chuckle. "No, right now you're just sorry. You'll be very sorry when you see the fines you'll get and you'll be truly remorseful once we return you to your ministry and let them finish with you."

"No," the girl replied smoothly, "you're the one who doesn't understand. We're very sorry that we had to do this." The guards eyes narrowed threateningly.

Harry didn't know who made the first move. He remembered feeling the girl tug him to his left, but by then the guard was already raising his wand and Harry's hand was diving into his pocket to retrieve his own. There was a flash of light and without fully understanding what he was doing, his wand was out and casting a hasty Shield Charm.

"_Silencio!_" the girl hissed. A bolt of light shot from her wand, striking the guard. He snarled noiselessly and turned on her immediately. No decent guard would ever be stopped by a simple Silencing Charm and this one was no different. His wand stabbed the air, sending a shower of sizzling sparks at her. With an elegant twirl, she spun away and dropped down to one knee, bracing herself against the wall with one hand and aiming her wand with the other.

Harry recognized the tactic. They were in a circular room and the guard was standing near the center. If he retreated to the door, he could face them both from relative safety but if he stayed where he was, he would be forced to fight enemies in opposite directions. Harry began striding around the wall, putting distance between himself and the girl. From the corner of his eyes, he saw another spell burst from the end of her wand.

The guard reacted as quickly as he could, but there had been no warning. She hadn't said any incantation. His wand arm was the obvious target and he managed to move it fast enough to save it, though it left his ribs exposed. Harry recognized the dull _crack_ of bone and winced sympathetically. The guard let out a silent scream, temporarily disarmed by pain.

Harry understood what the girl was doing now. She could have defeated the guard easily, perhaps even killed him, but she was trying to keep him alive and as unhurt as possible. Playing his part, Harry raised his wand and without a word, a pair of thin ropes shot toward the guard, binding his legs and one arm, but missing the one holding his wand.

Angry and in pain, he turned his wand on Harry with a glare that suggested none of the restraint Harry and the girl had shown. Harry prepared to cast another Shield Charm, but there was no need. Before the guard could hex Harry, the girl had leaped forward and swung her leg into the back of the man's knees, knocking his legs out from under him and sending him crashing onto the stone floor. As he tried to cough, the girl knelt down next to him and tapped her wand on his forehead, whispering "_Somnus._"

The man relaxed immediately, but she wasn't done. Walking over the the stairs, she bent over to touch the tip of her wand to the third step. With a faint flash, a small chunk of stone broke free and tumbled back down into the room. She returned to the guard, vanished the ropes binding him and pulled him over to the foot of the stairs. Finally, she stood over him and pointed her wand at his face. Harry felt himself jump forward, afraid of what she was about to do.

"_Obliviate!_" she said in a clear, crisp voice.

Pleased with her work, she put her hands back in her pockets. "That's all fixed then," she said, flashing a mischievous smile.

"That was... handled well," said Harry, trying not to appear too surprised or impressed by her actions.

"I have been practicing," she replied coyly. "I had a very talented mentor," she continued as she walked slowly toward him, "and I learn very quickly." Harry stood where he was and tried to ignore the seductive look in her eyes. She stopped just inches in front of him and stared up at him. "Perhaps there is something I can teach you," she whispered as she leaned in to kiss him again.

For a moment he hesitated, instinctually pulling back a fraction of an inch before stopping himself and allowing the inevitable to happen. His heart was pounding in his chest and his throat tightened until he thought he might suffocate right there. Finally, he felt her lips part from his and she backed away with a satisfied smile on her face.

"You know," she purred as her arm snaked around to the small of his back, "there's something we both have in common."

Harry tried to catch his breath. "What's that?" he asked.

The girl's smile widened. "Neither of us is Josef Kantos."

Suddenly, Harry felt the tip of a wand pressing into his waist. He made a move to step back but froze immediately as her arm tightened around him, pressing something cold and sharp into his back.

The smile on her face disappeared and was replaced by an icy expression while restrained fury raged behind her eyes. "It's Polyjuice Potion?" she asked stiffly. Harry nodded slowly. His wand was still at his side. It didn't really matter how quick he was.

"If it's Polyjuice," she said in slow controlled tones, "then he's still alive." When Harry didn't respond immediately, he felt her arm tense up, pressing the point of the knife into his spine. "He's alive, yes?" she snarled.

"Yes," Harry replied, feeling the arm behind him relax.

"Good. As long as you keep talking we'll be able to say the same for you," she growled. "Where is he?"

"Britain."

"_Where_ in Britain?" she snapped. "The Ministry? _Azkaban?_"

"Hogwarts," he answered, hoping to keep his spine in a single piece.

"Hogwarts?" she said, looking genuinely surprised. "Why would he be at Hogwarts?" Luckily for Harry, she wasn't really expecting an answer. "If he's there then he must be— That's where you came from..."

Harry nodded again. He could no longer feel the point of her knife. With her wand still pointing at him, she slowly stepped back and stared at him with suspicion and awe.

"You're _him_," she whispered. "You're the Warden. You're... Harker," she said, using the alias he'd used so often when in the Brotherhood. "You— What have you done with him? If you hurt him I'll—"

"He's fine."

Her eyes narrowed. "If he was fine he would have sent word to me. In three years, he hasn't missed a single meeting." Raising her knife, she pointed the short, polished blade at Harry's neck. "Stop lying to me. He's not _fine_."

"He's been better, I'll admit," Harry said in a calming tone. "He's been through a lot and I don't think he's slept in weeks."

The girl remained skeptical. "Then why isn't he here?" she asked. "Why the disguise? Why did you try to trick me?"

Harry began to feel like they were making some headway. "I didn't come to Athens to trick you. I didn't know you were there. I don't even know who you are. I lied to you because I needed your help. If you know who I am, then you know why I need to conceal myself. I used Josef because he needed to be seen before he gets blamed for what happened in Romania."

"Why would they blame him?"

"Because he's alive," he replied with feigned frustration. Though there was no doubt that Josef trusted the girl, he would be the first to caution Harry not to say too much. "A lot of wizards died there. People will want someone to blame and Josef is an easy target. I'm going to try and make it a little harder."

"By making it look like he attacked a guard?"

"No: By proving that Josef can be in two places at once," he said. "It's a simple trick, but it should be enough to keep him out of prison."

The girl slowly lowered her wand, but kept her eyes locked on Harry. She seemed to be struggling with her own thoughts. When she finally spoke, there was no anger in her voice. "Why?" she asked weakly. "Why are you here?"

"I told you. I'm looking for something."

"Yes, I remember," she replied impatiently. "_What_ are you looking for?"

"A door."

She turned to stare at the fresco between them. "What's on the other side?"

"It's better if you don't know. In fact, you should probably leave now. I don't know how long we've got until the rest of the guards realize something has happened. You've done enough already. The more involved you get, the more danger you're putting yourself in."

"If Josef is involved, then so am I," she said firmly. "I had nothing before he found me. He gave me everything I have. He's obviously in danger and I swore I'd never betray or abandon him. He would never ask me to leave."

"And just what do you think he would tell me to do?" Harry challenged her. "You've already displayed a distinct lack of loyalty to me. Though your wand isn't pointed at me right now, you'd hex me in a second if I did anything unexpected. How can I trust you? I don't even know your name."

She blinked at him in silence. "My name is Lucy," she said softly. "If Josef were here he'd tell you I have proven worthy of his trust many times. He trusts you. He put his life in your hands and you put your life in his. If nothing else, he'd say you should know to trust me because I still haven't attacked you."

It was not the first time Harry's mind had questioned that fact. She'd attacked the guard almost prematurely. They might have easily talked their way out, but she'd reacted first with her wand. She'd done the same with him at first, but it all ended the moment she realized who he was.

"He told you to help me, didn't he?" Harry asked her. "He ordered you to help me."

She gave a single, slight nod. "He said that if you ever found me, I should protect you and do whatever you needed me to do."

"And that means you're not going to leave."

Lucy didn't respond immediately. She simply stared back at him with steady resolve. "What's behind the door?" she asked calmly.

"If we're right," Harry said with a sigh, "nothing at all."

"And if you're not?"

"Death."

He didn't pay any attention to her reaction. He hadn't forgotten the guards. He had been truthful when warning Lucy about them. They didn't have much time. He walked over to the fresco and stood just inches from the center of the arch outlined by the pair of snakes.

From the moment he saw the hidden image, he'd known how to open it. It had always been the same. It shouldn't be that easy. There should be all sorts of protective charms on it and yet he was certain there wasn't. He could almost _feel_ it. The key was just a single word:

"_Open,_" he hissed in Parseltongue.

Almost instantaneously, Harry felt the wall shudder and watched the tiny crack in the center of the door grow as two slabs of stone swung into a darkened chamber. For a moment he simply stood on the threshold, staring into the inky blackness and waiting for something to happen. He nearly hexed Lucy when she brushed past him.

She lit her wand and aimed a beam of dim light into the chamber. Like the chambers in London and Romania, it was sunken, though this one wasn't nearly so deep and there was no raised platform or golden ring at its center. For a moment, Harry felt his stomach leap with the hope that he and Josef had been wrong. The feeling disappeared quickly, though. He hadn't been able to see anything through the murky shadows of the room but he found that he could feel something that wasn't quite right. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that he could feel _nothing_. Through the darkness he could sense a great emptiness, like some hallowed place had been scoured down to its foundations.

He didn't need to see the proof. He already knew what had happened there. "We were right," he announced flatly.

Lucy didn't seem to trust his instincts nearly as much. She held up her wand and whispered another spell. A brilliant glowing orb appeared at the tip of her wand, growing larger until it broke away and floated up toward the ceiling, filling the chamber with light.

Harry had been right. In the very center of the chamber, two small chunks of stone remained, the last remnants of the arch which Harry knew had once stood in the center of the chamber. Scattered about the floor were the shattered remnants of the rest of it. In the spot where it had stood, there was no veil, no gateway or even the slightest trace of the magic which had once been contained there.

"What does it mean?" she asked as Harry descended the short stairs to the chamber floor. "What was here?"

Harry knelt down to look at one of the chunks of stone that had been the arch. He made no attempt to pick it up or even touch it. "It was a doorway," he answered.

"To what?"

"To a prison, I think."

Lucy cautiously followed him, avoiding the chunks of stone and inspecting the floor. "Look at the floor," she said. "The doorway was covered in dust. There is none here. This— This happened recently." She over at Harry, but he didn't respond. He was busy inspecting the remnants of the arch's base.

She stood up and joined Harry at the center of the chamber. "So that is what happened. This was some sort of magical prison and whatever it was holding has escaped."

"No," replied Harry. "No, it escaped a week ago. This couldn't have happened more than a day ago." He didn't have to explain what that meant to her.

"It looks like it doesn't want to go back."

There was nothing else to do. He'd found exactly what he'd expected. He couldn't repair it and didn't really have any need to. There was really no purpose in remaining there any longer. He turned around and began walking back to the arched doorway. Before he'd gotten more than a few steps, he heard Lucy's voice cutting through the thick air.

"It's more than just a prison, isn't it?" she called out. " Whatever escaped, it's not just some dark wizard. This is why Josef is in danger." Harry turned and saw her staring at him. "It didn't start a week ago. It started long before that. This is the reason Grigore died, isn't it?" Harry didn't even have to answer. Like Josef, she could read it in his eyes. "And everything that happened in Romania?" He nodded.

"It... it tried to k-kill him too, didn't it?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "That's why he missed our meeting, and you— You rescued him, didn't you? The wizards the refugees saw, they were you and your friends coming for him."

She didn't wait for Harry's answer. Smiling thankfully, she said, "He told me once that you were the closest thing he's ever had to a friend. I always thought he spoke of you more like you were his brother. I never really understood why until now. I'm sorry for— for everything I did. I was—"

"You were just doing as you were trained," he said, finishing her sentence.

"So, you'll... tell him—" she began, "—you'll tell him that I didn't run off? You'll tell him that I haven't abandoned him, that I still— I was still waiting for him?"

"I don't think he's really had much of a chance to think about that," Harry told her. "Of course, you could tell him yourself."

She shook her head. "No, I can't. I have to get back to Athens."

"You know, you don't have to go back there. You can come back to Hogwarts with me," Harry suggested. "Josef is there. You'll be able to speak with him. He might enjoy the company."

He had meant for the offer to encourage her, but her reaction was far from what he expected. Walking back toward the door, she sat down on the steps with her elbows resting on her knees, her head hanging limply. "No, I— You wouldn't understand," she said heavily. "It's... complicated. I wish I could, really, but— I belong in Athens. It's my post. I can't abandon it. If he wants to speak with me, he knows how to set up a meeting." She looked up and Harry saw that her eyes looked a little more red than they had before. "Tell him that I'll be at the usual spot," she said, pretending to smile. "I'll be there waiting for him."

"Look, there's really no point in that," Harry said as he walked over to her side. "The Brotherhood is gone. Josef's a free wizard. There are no no missions, no need to hide, and no rules about what is or isn't allowed."

She gave him a strange look. "You don't understand. It's not about the Brotherhood or missions or anything like that. I made a _promise_. He's done so much for me. Without Josef, my life would have been— I would have rather not had one at all. He took me away from all that. I had nothing and he gave me more than I ever asked for. Can't you see? My loyalty and devotion are all that I've got to give in return. He's given me so much. It's the only way I know of showing him how thankful I am."

Harry didn't know what to say and it seemed that neither did Lucy. She looked away as if embarrassed by her honesty. After a few seconds of awkward silence, her eyes found Harry's again.

"He's alright, isn't he?" she asked weakly. "He's really alright? He's not in pain or—"

"He's fine," Harry reassured her. "He isn't sleeping, but he is making jokes."

Lucy's face brightened and she smiled warmly. "That's good... That's good enough for now." She raised her wand and twirled it at her hair. Within seconds, it had twisted itself back into the pair of tight plaits she had been wearing when Harry first met her. She stood up, brushed a small amount of dust off her robes and stepped aside. "You should go," she said as she motioned for him to step through the door.

"We'll both go."

"There isn't much time. Go on," she said softly. "Leave before the guards return or you run out of potion. Don't worry about the doors. I'll seal them up again."

Harry could hear the finality in her voice. He wouldn't be able to convince her of any other plan. It was the result of Josef's teachings and Harry had to admit that she had learned quite well. After reaching into his pocket to take one last gulp of Polyjuice Potion, he turned and began walking away.

"If you ever need to find me," he said over his shoulder, "just ask for—"

"If I need to find you, I'll just find you," she interrupted. "I've done it before. I'm sure I can manage to do it again."

With one last nod, Harry turned and walked out of the chamber.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

Yay! finally fixed their horribly embarrassing bug that kept me from posting this. I'm not going to even ask how such a thing happens, but... wow. Whatever.

Look! I told you all that the story was still alive. I hope everyone is still around. We'll see how many readers I've got left. I figure there has to be at least a couple of you left.

Well, this is for both of you! Enjoy!

_Note: The rough draft of Chapter Six is done. It will be along in just a little bit._


	6. A Distinct Lack of Truth

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

**A Distinct Lack of Truth**

* * *

Harry returned to Hogwarts a few hours later, still trying to understand the full meaning of what he'd seen. The Veil at Knossos was just like the one in Romania. He'd suspected that all along, and so had Josef, but he'd learned something even more important: No one but them seemed to know about it. 

The Turkish Ministry knew exactly what had happened in Istanbul. They had reacted immediately just as Josef said he expected them to. The Bulgarians seemed to know what happened in Romania. They were reacting defensively, fearing whoever had caused the destruction there. None of that had happened at Knossos. There was barely any suspicion about their missing festival chairman, and there was absolutely no sign that anyone knew the Veil had been destroyed, or that it even existed in the first place.

Somehow, the fact that the Veil at Knossos had been destroyed without any notice was even more disturbing than the thought of Turkish wizards blaming him for the attack in Istanbul. Part of his concern stemmed from his uncertainty over just how this new adversary had known a Veil was there when no one else had known for centuries. There was only one real possibility, but Harry found that less than comforting. However, even more uncomfortable was the realization that if it hadn't been for some mediocre New Year's festival, he and Josef wouldn't have known about it either. Theodore Volakis would have been just another wizard who disappeared without announcing his departure. It's doubtful even the Greek reporters would have been interested in the story.

In the end, it didn't really matter. The Veil was destroyed before he got there. The question was: How many others had been destroyed since then? Why were they being destroyed? On the surface, it wasn't hard to guess why it had been done, but there had to be something more. Most escaped prisoners want to put as much distance between themselves and their prisons as possible. A bold few might go so far as to perform some act of mayhem as they leave, as if trying to repay their captors for their torment. This was different though. Essentially, it had slipped from its cell, but instead of running away, it chose to linger in the corridor and systematically brick up every other cell door. It was aggressive and malicious, the choice of someone who was confident in their abilities to do as they liked.

However, it didn't seem to fit at all with the methods it was currently using. The Veils obviously posed some threat. None of the attacks were of the public sort favored by cults like the Death Eaters. They were clandestine and subtle. Josef's voice echoed in his mind, reciting lessons about avoiding unwanted attention. He saw the same tactics here. It was showing just as much caution and care as the Brotherhood had used when dealing with situations which could turn potentially dangerous.

The Veils were the key, he told himself. That much was clear. Perhaps it was just as simple as he first thought and there would be some way of imprisoning it again. Perhaps it was as simple as forcing it to step through. That seemed to be a little overly optimistic, but it certainly didn't sound like a horrible plan to start with.

He needed to know more about the Veils: their purpose, who made them, how they were supposed to be used. Even if Josef was right and their only course of action was to wait for it to come to London, the Veils seemed to be their greatest weapons. Now he just needed to learn how to use them. However, without knowing just how many there were, there could be no way of knowing just how much time he had. He needed help.

Normally, this would have been a job for Hermione, but this time he thought he had an even better candidate. Of course, before that he'd need to stop off at the Hospital Wing. There was no doubt that Ginny would be worried about where he'd disappeared to.

* * *

"If I could have a word with you, Potter," Madam Pomfrey called out as Harry stepped into the Hospital Wing. Near the other end of the hall he could see Ginny lying in bed with Josef reclining against the stone bricks of the opposite wall. He looked as if he were reading something. Pomfrey glared disapprovingly at him as she passed by, and when her eyes met Harry's, her expression didn't improve. Pulling him back through the doorway and into the corridor, she began speaking to him in hushed, stern tones. 

"She's been asking for you all afternoon. Can I assume your absence today is in some way a continuation of your little adventure yesterday?"

"Yes," he answered distractedly. "How is she? Is she feeling better?"

"She needs her rest, Potter," Pomfrey replied heavily. "I don't think she's been sleeping well at all and while I'm sure she'll rest easier knowing that you're back, I doubt hearing about whatever you've done is going to help her recover any faster."

For a moment, Harry simply stood there, uncertain whether he agreed with her or not. In the end, he knew what Ginny would say if she were there. "She'll want to know. It's important," he told her.

Pomfrey remained steadfast. "So is her recovery," she said with finality. "I hardly think her desires have any bearing on her health. From what I've seen, I'd say the reverse is more likely. She's shown a distinct disregard for her own well-being lately, and if you wish to see her return to her usual, reckless self, you'd do well to discourage that habit for the moment."

"So you're saying I should lie to her?"

"There's no need for that," she answered with a frown. "Mr. Kantos has already done a thorough job of it for you." She began to open the doors and paused one last time to look back at Harry. "If you feel you must lie, then by all means do so. I hear you are well trained. For my part, I ask that you do no more than what you did earlier: Say nothing. If you upset her or put her in any distress, I'll seal off the entire Wing until she recovers."

With nothing more than a warning look, Madam Pomfrey opened the door and slipped back into the Hospital Wing, leaving Harry standing alone in the corridor. He began to think that he should have avoided the Hospital Wing just a little longer. Now that Ginny knew he had returned, she'd be even more insistent on speaking with him.

He weighed his options quickly. If he went in, Ginny would want to know where he'd been. If he told her, Pomfrey would lock him out and he'd be lucky if he saw her before the end of the year. If he didn't tell her, she'd probably be angry with him. Of course, if he just walked away now, she'd be irate and he'd probably wish he wouldn't have to deal with her until well into the new year.

Realizing there was only one good option, he opened the door and walked into the Hospital Wing. It was risky, but even if he failed utterly, it was no worse than the best outcome of every other choice. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and saw Ginny watching him walk down the aisle between the rows of beds. He could do it. He'd hidden from the Brotherhood for almost a year.

"Welcome back," announced Ginny as he approached. He had a single instant where he thought he might be able to completely ignore the fact that he'd been gone, but it was dashed almost immediately as a thin smile spread across her face.

"So, where exactly have you been?"

Harry saw Pomfrey watching him closely. "I left the castle," he replied lamely.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Yes, thank you, Harry, I did notice that."

"She's a very clever girl," chimed Josef from his spot against the far wall.

Ginny glared at him over her shoulder. "Josef told me that while you two were eating breakfast this morning, a pair of young, blonde witches showed up at the front door," she explained in a light tone. "He said they claimed they'd lost their knickers and begged you to help find them."

"Ah," said Harry, trying to stifle a laugh. "I don't know if that's how I remember it, but—"

Ginny frowned. "I didn't believe him."

"See?" commented Josef, still not taking his eyes from his book. "Got a sharp mind, that one."

"Yes, well that was rather... creative of him," replied Harry, ignoring Josef. "Much better than the one with the gypsies."

Josef finally looked up. "Everyone runs off with gypsies. It's boring. Now, a pair of witches looking for their underwear, that's brilliant."

"Yes, of course. I'm very impressed." Ginny said flatly as she flashed a sarcastic smile before turning back to Harry. "So where were you, really?"

"I, er, went to an old shop," he lied.

Josef perked up immediately. "So did you find what you were looking for?"

"I suppose," Harry answered cautiously. "I found it, but it didn't work."

"I told you it wouldn't," Josef muttered as he turned back to his book.

"Didn't find what? What are you two talking about?" Ginny asked. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Madam Pomfrey glaring suspiciously at him.

"It's nothing," Harry said. "It was just an idea we had. I'll tell you about it some other time. Is, er, Valencia here?"

Josef's eyebrows jumped a little. "Is she around here?" he asked with thinly veiled annoyance. "Are you feeling alright, Harry? I think you might be losing your —occasionally clumsy— touch. I would have hoped that the Hospital Wing wouldn't be the first place you'd go looking for a librarian —at least, not in a castle that actually has a library."

"So she is there, then?" Harry continued, trying not to let Josef sidetrack him.

Josef had put his book down and was now frowning at Harry. "I'm sure it doesn't matter. She's probably very busy preparing for all those students to return."

"I doubt she's all that busy."

"Why do you want to talk to Valencia?" Ginny asked him suspiciously. "Has something happened?"

"Yes," Harry answered slowly. "Madam Pomfrey said you were getting better. Don't you remember what happened yesterday?"

"Yes, of course I do—"

"Oh, well I suppose that's a good sign, isn't it, Josef?" When Harry turned to look at him, he found Josef glaring darkly at him. "Well, I'm glad that you're feeling better, but—"

"I'd feel better if you told me where you've been all day," commented Ginny.

"Right, I figured you might, but, er... I'm really quite busy. I have an appointment I need to be off to."

"An appointment?" Ginny asked skeptically. "With whom?"

"With Valencia," he said, trying to make it sound like something more than a complete lie.

"That's... a bit of a surprise," Josef commented disapprovingly. "Downright mysterious, to be honest."

When he saw Ginny's reaction, he realized he'd made a mistake. She was sitting up in bed glaring at him. Across the room, Pomfrey was similarly interested.

"Valencia came by a few hours ago, looking for you," Ginny explained stiffly. "She wanted to know if we expected you back today. Hardly the question someone would ask of a person they'd arranged to meet in just a few hours." Harry was left with nothing at all to say. He simply stood there, waiting for her to say something else.

"Something happened today, Harry," she said slowly. "I'd like to know what it is."

Harry took a moment to think of just how to respond. "You're right and I'd really like to tell you, but it's a rather exciting tale and I'm afraid I don't have the time it would take to really do it justice right now."

Even as he finished saying it, he could see Ginny struggling to control her anger. "Yes," she said in a strained voice. "Yes, we wouldn't want to ruin the story, would we? Perhaps you'll have more time to tell it tonight?"

Harry's eyes jerked toward the corner of the room where Pomfrey was still watching him with a stern gaze. "Maybe not tonight," he suggested. "It's nothing all that important and you still look a little tired. You need your rest."

Ginny tossed a glance toward Pomfrey as well, then turned back to give Harry a weak smile. "Yes, I suppose so. I mean, if it's not important, a day won't really matter, would it?" Harry nodded weakly. This seemed to appease her a little. "Brilliant. We'll make an evening of it, then. We'll find a nice cozy corner of the castle to spend the night. It's been a while since we've had the chance to just relax and be alone together. And well, who knows how long it might be a while until we get that chance again."

"Yes, that's a good—" Harry began before realizing what he was saying. "I mean to say, it's always a good idea to take time out to relax." It was too late. The smile on Ginny's face faded and she laid back onto her pillow with an empty expression. He'd said too much. Ginny knew that it was more serious than he'd let on. He could see the anxiety in her eyes.

"I suppose I should be going," Harry said. "I really do need to speak with Valencia."

Josef stood up immediately. "Harry, don't—"

"No, it's alright, Josef," Ginny interrupted him. "He can go. We'll talk tomorrow night. I'll be fine until then. I just hope everyone else will be, too."

Harry walked to the side of her bed and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. She didn't react until the very last moment, opening her eyes just enough to look into his and convince him that she didn't blame him. Feeling only a little better, he stood up and began walking away. As he made his way across the hall, he heard another set of footsteps following close behind him. Just feet from the exit, Josef overtook him and stood between him and doorway.

"Harry," he said in a harsh whisper, "stop a moment and think about what you're doing."

Harry pushed past him and grabbed the door handle. "Who else am I supposed to talk to, then? You didn't even know that Veil existed. Clearly, we need someone else and she seems to be our best chance."

He tugged the door open and slipped out of the hall. Josef clutched at the door and began following him. "You can't trust her, Harry," he hissed. "You mustn't. You've made enough mistakes already. Don't—"

With a flick of his wand, Harry pulled the door shut and cast a quick locking charm. It was nothing permanent and nothing that would take Josef more than a few moments to remove, but Harry decided that those few moments of peace would be well worth it. For someone who had been through all that he had, Josef still had a surprising amount of distrust towards the people who had come to save him.

* * *

Josef quickly caught up with him again as he climbed the stairway in the Entrance Hall. "Well, that was mature," he muttered. 

"Perhaps you're right," Harry replied. "Oh, and thank you for all the help back there. It was a tough situation, but your input really made things so much easier."

"Don't blame me when you get caught in a lie!"

Harry reached the top of the stairs and spun around to face him. "You _knew_ I couldn't tell her where I had been. Pomfrey gave you the same speech, didn't she? We've got serious problems, but you had to sit there and make your jokes. Now I've got Ginny and Madam Pomfrey upset with me. It's not going to make it any easier to tell her about it."

"So there was something to tell," Josef asked. "You found the chamber, then?

Trying to reign in his annoyance, Harry simply nodded silently.

"It was destroyed?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Were you cautious? Does anyone else know? Is it still a secret?"

"I assume so. There was an... incident, but it should be fixed by now."

"It _should_ be fixed?" Josef responded with a heavy sigh. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "You're not certain, but you're confident of the answer. You don't know... because there was someone else with you."

"Yes."

Josef continued walking in silence. For a moment, Harry thought he was upset. "You went to Athens first," he whispered to himself. "Of course you did. Too many people might remember a wizard taking the Floo to Knossos, but Athens... No one would even turn their head at another wizard headed to Athens."

"That's true, but it was simpler than that," admitted Harry. "I didn't even know how to get to the palace and I didn't have the time to research it. I knew if I got to Athens, I'd find someone who could help me."

"—but she found you."

"To be honest, she thought she'd found you," Harry replied. As they walked, Harry briefly explained what had happened when he arrived, leaving out the fact that Lucy had undressed right in front of him. If Josef suspected anything, he didn't seem to be all that bothered by it. If anything, he seemed disappointed that it took her so long to realize that it wasn't truly him.

"She helped you find the Veil, then?" he asked stiffly.

"Well, yes," Harry answered slowly. "There was a bit there in the middle where I think she was about to kill me, but we worked everything out. She's rather worried about you, you know. I asked her to come back with me, but she refused. She said she'd wait for a message from you. She's been waiting to hear from you for quite some time."

He detected a faint twitch in the corner of Josef's mouth. "Yes, she's always been very loyal."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I've seen loyalty," he said. "She's something well beyond that." He hoped Josef might say something in response, but he simply nodded and kept his eyes on the corridor ahead of them. For the first time in weeks, Harry felt a tingle of frivolous excitement. There was no urgency to it, no one's life would be put in danger if he failed to unearth anything more about the wizard walking along side him. That, perhaps, was what made him so interested in learning more.

"All this time I've known you, and I never heard anything about her," mused Harry. "There were all sorts of rumors going about the Brotherhood. I remember hearing quite a few names, but I'd have remembered something like Lucy. The way she talked—"

"Her name isn't Lucy," he interrupted.

"Wait— what?" Harry said as he stopped suddenly. "She said— Are we talking about the same person? She was a little shorter than me with long red hair," he explained. "It was sort of tied up in two—"

"I know what she looks like, Harry," Josef said, rolling his eyes.

"She told me her name was—"

"Wake up, _Harker,_" Josef groaned. "Or should I use _Holmwood_?" He waited a moment to let his point sink in. "Of course she didn't give you her real name. Even if she did trust you, it's not the sort of thing she'd tell anyone. It's not something she's proud of."

Harry's curiosity grew. "Why not?"

"Not everyone has blissful memories of their parents, Harry. In her case, I'd say any memory which was less than wretched was pretty rare. When I met her, her name was Emma Burton. Perhaps you have heard of her father. A grim fellow named Wallace. He spent quite a bit of time in Athens."

Harry stumbled at bit at hearing the name. "Her father was Wallace Burton? Even Grigore said he was a nasty piece of work —and that's saying something. Of course, I doubt it would have stopped him from doing business. I thought I heard someone say he was a slave trader. Is that sort of thing even possible?"

"There's nothing you can't buy in Athens," Josef commented darkly.

Harry shuddered in disgust. "Well, with a father like that, I'm sure she'd have fit right into the Brotherhood. How'd you two meet? Did you bump into each other in a Dark Magic Bookshop? Or did you share an awkward moment as you both reached for the same barrel of poison?" He let out a small chuckle at the thought. "Perhaps you tried to rob the same old woman?" Josef just glowered at him.

"Weren't you listening to me?" he growled. "I doubt she knew a day of comfort before I bought her."

Harry nearly choked. "You _what?_"

"Didn't you see the scar on her ankle from the shackle she wore for ten years? Or the mark tattooed on her ribs?" His eyebrows twitched as he looked at Harry. "Of course not. Even if she had been convinced that you were me, you would _never_ betray Ginny by even looking at the shape of another woman."

Harry's blood ran cold. "What— What do you mean by that?" he asked, but Josef didn't even acknowledge the question, leaving Harry quite unsure of just what to think.

"The shackle and the tattoo are marks of her slavery. I bought her," Josef repeated pointedly, "—from her father."

Harry's fear was swept away in a wave of revulsion and outrage. He came to a complete stop and stared at Josef, waiting for his expression to break into laughter at Harry's expense. No one could ever sell their own daughter. Even Marvolo Gaunt had shown some shred of attachment to Merope. It had to be a joke, and yet, Harry remembered the odd look he'd seen in Lucy's eyes.

"Hold on," Harry said, struggling with his own doubt. "You couldn't have. Wallace Burton is dead. He was killed—"

"Yes," Josef answered icily. "Yes, he was."

"You... you killed him," Harry said, shocked both at the revelation and Josef's tone. "Does she... know?"

Josef didn't blink. He simply stood where he was and stared grimly at Harry. "She watched. She didn't mourn him. She didn't even cry."

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You murdered her father—"

"_Murdered?_" Josef barked. "He deserved that a dozen times—"

"—Yes, I agree." Harry told him. "So you killed him, but you didn't set her free? You kept her as some sort of— What exactly is she? Some sort of attendant?"

"An _assistant_," Josef corrected him. "She_offered_ to help me. Whether you noticed or not, she's been trained —perhaps even more than you were. Your skill with a wand may be superior to hers, but you never mastered the more subtle skills of getting information and keeping yourself hidden like she has."

"You were training her to become a Brotherhood member."

Josef shook his head as if it had been a foolish suggestion. "Harry, no one gets _trained_ to become a Brotherhood member. You're either chosen or you're not, and the people who aren't chosen rarely live long enough to learn they were not selected."

"Wait. So you never actually intended to let her join the Brotherhood. You never even told them about her. You just lied to her to keep her happy and make her think that there was some point to everything you made her do."

"Are you blind?" Josef growled, stepping closer to Harry. "Did you not even look at her for a second? If I would have brought her to Romania— If Grigore would have known about her, what do you think he would have had her do?"

"She's s very talented—" Harry began.

"She's a young witch with red hair," Josef said, speaking over Harry's attempts. "Think, Harry. Do you really believe I make a habit of chatting with slavers? Do you think Wallace Burton did his business in common pubs where I just happened across him?" He stepped closer and lowered his voice.

"Grigore _sent me_ to find Burton. He had contacted him less than a month after you made your escape from the Castle. Grigore said he wanted a girl with red hair. He said Burton had one and that I should go fetch her. You know what he was going to do with her, don't you?"

Harry didn't need Josef to explain it. It wouldn't have taken much for Grigore to make Lucy almost indistinguishable from Ginny. At that time, only a few weeks since he'd escaped, he didn't know exactly what he would have done if someone looking like Ginny would have come to find him. It wouldn't have really mattered. Josef was right. She would have died in the end, regardless of what Harry had done.

"Grigore thought of her only as a tool," Josef said in a softer voice. "He had never even seen her. He would have used her to get to you and then discarded her." Josef turned away and began walking down the corridor. As Harry followed, Josef continued speaking, though more to himself than Harry, it seemed. "The moment I saw Lucy, I knew what he meant to do with her. I knew that she would be killed, and that I would probably be the one ordered to do it. I... couldn't. I..."

"You cared about her?"

Josef's face quickly hardened into an emotionless mask. "I didn't want her to die," he answered stiffly. "She's a talented witch and no one deserves a life like that. Her father was a despicable man. When I was finished with him, I... wanted to give her another chance. We... we had something in common and she respected me for it." Harry suppressed a smile. As impersonal as it all was, it was as close as he'd ever heard Josef come to actually showing some sign of affection.

"You should go find her," he suggested. "Bring her back with you. She wants to help you however she can. You did a fine job training her and we could certainly use all the help we can get."

"No," Josef said firmly. "She belongs in Athens."

"Her post might be in Athens, but she wants to be here. At the very least, she deserves some sort of message," argued Harry. "She is very worried. She cares for you, you know."

Josef gave Harry a dismissive wave. "All the more reason for her to stay right where she is," he countered. "Unlike you, I have no desire to needlessly risk the lives of everyone who crosses paths with me."

"Oh, and who are you to talk?" Harry replied, beginning to feel rather defensive. "You could have just let Lucy walk away. You could have Obliviated her and dropped her off in some small village, but you chose to train her, knowing Grigore would have killed you both if he found out."

"It was her choice, Harry."

"It was your choice, too," he replied quickly. "I didn't even get that, did I? I never choose to get involved in any of this. I was trying to keep Ginny away from it. It wasn't her choice, either. All she ever did was try to find me. She's only involved because _Grigore_ chose to use her and _you_ were helping him."

Josef let out a long sigh. "Yes, I'm well aware of that. Even if I had tried to protect her as much as you did, I do not think we could have kept her from this."

"And you're responsible for Hermione, too."

"Yes, and Ron," Josef admitted wearily. "Though I have no doubt that it would be enough that his best mate, the woman he loves, and his sister were involved already."

"So, what exactly was your point again?"

"Valencia," he replied with distaste. "Even after all my warnings, you still turned to her for help."

"Yeah, well all of your warnings were really just unsubstantiated fears, weren't they?" Harry shot back. "Right now, she's the only one who might have a chance to help us find all the Veils that no one else knows about."

"So you can do _what_, Harry?" Josef said, his frustration growing. "We already know what it's going to do. I know you. You don't have any idea what you're going to do, but you'll recruit anyone who shows you a moment of friendship."

As they began climbing the very last set of stairs between them and the library, Josef became even more insistent. "She has no history, Harry. She knew about the Brotherhood and that's _not supposed to be possible_."

Harry just shrugged. "All the more reason to ask her about this. If she knows one impossible thing, maybe she'll be able to find another."

"Don't you see? This is about more than just finding your pointless answers, Harry. We have every reason to believe that she is using you and this situation to her advantage. We don't know what she wants or why she's helping you. Listen," he said in a calmer voice, "at the very best, I'm completely wrong about her, and you're dragging yet another innocent witch into a situation where death is one of the better outcomes. And if that's not enough, you're letting her bring a number of respectable wizards with her."

The door to the library was in sight. With a sigh, Harry tried to remain calm. "Listen, I haven't forced anyone to help me. I haven't even tried to convince them. I had to work to keep the rest of the Order of the Phoenix from helping me. Valencia _wanted_ to help. Even after everything you said to her, she _chose_ to come to Romania knowing that we were there to save you. The others were no different."

"They _are_ different. She's the key, Harry," he said insistently. "She's befriended your mate the werewolf. He wouldn't let her go alone. Tonks trusts her even less than I do, but she'd never let the two of them run off by themselves, and Weller is the sort who would never desert his partner. And Justinian—" Josef paused to groan in disgust. "Well, Justinian would leap into the Abyss if he thought there was a chance that Valencia was waiting for him at the bottom. Without her at your side, you'd never get him off the grounds, and it's unlikely you'd get the rest of them."

"Then you should be worried about them, not her," Harry argued, though by now he was doing it more out of some form of conversational momentum than any real devotion to the cause. "If you think she's the untrustworthy one, then why try to stop me from involving her? Why not try to convince me to ditch the others but keep her?"

The two of them came to an abrupt halt just outside the door to the library. As Josef turned to leave Harry, he looked over his shoulder. "Because she's manipulative, Harry. She helped convince the others to risk their lives and I don't think she's risking as much as they are."

He continued walking away without giving Harry a chance to ask him just what he meant by that. He considered running after him, but decided that Josef probably said it for just that reason. In his mind, anything that got Harry to do what he wanted would have been worth saying. Feeling as if he'd been manipulated quite enough for one day, Harry simply stood at the door and watched him until he turned down another corridor.

Harry opened the door to the library, but froze after taking his first step. He could hear voices coming from inside and they sounded to be having some sort of hushed argument. He walked in a little further, letting the door close slowly and quietly behind him. Listening closer, he could just barely hear Valencia's voice echoing softly from some far corner of the room.

The moment he took a step closer to try and hear what she was saying, her voice stopped abruptly and Harry suddenly got an intense feeling that he was in danger. Before he could start moving back toward the door, a long snout poked around the corner of the nearest bookshelf. Harry had only an instant to react before the large wolf had slipped around the corner and began growling at him.

Without thinking, Harry backed himself against another bookcase and drew his wand. This was obviously something the wolf understood quite well, as it immediately closed the distance between them and snapped at Harry's hand with long, gleaming teeth. Harry reacted instinctively, pulling his hand away and raising it beyond the reach of the wolf's jaws. The animal leaped up, snapping at Harry's wand again, as if to send a clear message about what would happen if he tried to use it.

"_Vink, stop!_"

Harry took his eyes off the wolf long enough to see Valencia stalking toward him looking every bit as angry as the bristling wolf only inches away from him.

"How long have you been spying on us?" she snarled. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing," Harry insisted, paying more attention to Vink's jaws than the librarian behind him.

"You're _lying,_ Potter!" she snapped. Vink seemed to respond to her tone, snapping at Harry again and baring his teeth with renewed intensity. "What did you hear? Tell me _now!_"

"He didn't hear anything," Lupin said as he suddenly strode into view. Valencia turned on him with an icy glare, but he simply stared back calmly. "Vink knows Harry," he explained as he walked toward him. "He couldn't have been here for more than a moment before Vink found him."

Valencia looked unconvinced. "Why are you here, Potter?" she asked coldly.

Harry looked down at Vink who hadn't moved an inch and then back to Valencia and Lupin. "I didn't come here to spy on you. I came here looking for answers."

"What sort of answers?"

"I want to know about the Veils," he answered quickly.

Valencia stiffened. "Why come to me, then? What makes you think that I have the answers you're looking for."

Harry tried to ignore the growling wolf in front of him. "In Romania... you said I didn't understand the magic involved with them. You're right, I don't, but I think _you_ do. You called it the 'missing Death Gate'. You guessed it was there before we found it. Well, now I'm looking for more of them and I'm hoping you can help me find them."

With a sour expression, Valencia reached down to pat Vink's shoulders. Almost instantaneously, the wolf's demeanor changed and he turned to circle around her legs, though his eyes never left Harry.

"He has come to ask about the Death Gates," she whispered to herself, watching Harry as close as Vink. "I'll admit that my interest in them has been renewed of late, though my knowledge of them is still far from complete."

"Anything you can tell me will help," Harry said as he relaxed a little. "Just how much do you know about them?"

"Enough to know that they are not a subject to be pursued lightly," she answered heavily. She rubbed the top of Vink's head gently and he slowly began walking away. "You're taking a great risk."

"I'm well beyond that," Harry said as Vink disappeared around the bookshelves.

Valencia shrugged and led Harry and Lupin back to a table stacked with books. To his surprise, Harry quickly realized that the collection of old tomes had been gathered to research the very thing he was there to talk to her about. Valencia sensed his sudden suspicion.

"I'm no simpleton, Harry." she said. "Anyone could see that something bizarre is happening and the Death Gates seem to be at the very center of it. No one has ever destroyed one of them. Even Remus knew that."

"I doubt anyone ever wanted to try," commented Lupin. "The Veils were seen as powerful magical sources. No one would destroy such a thing. They all wanted to figure out how to harness them."

Valencia nodded and continued. "They wanted power just like everyone else. They thought that was all there was to the Gates, and until recently, so did I. It was a mistake. The true power of the Gates is something far more sinister than I ever realized."

She continued talking as she opened a large dusty book and began paging through it. "It's quite apparent now that the Gates themselves had nothing to do with the power everyone sought from them. The Gates were meant to prevent that power from reaching into our world. In the end, it wasn't the Gates, but the thing behind that everyone wanted. Perhaps it's for the best that few —if any— wizards ever realized that.

"After what I've heard and seen, I have to believe they were created as some manner of makeshift prison. Considering how long they've been around, I'd say they've done their job quite well. The charms within them have kept them in place for thousands of years, but they're not perfect. Once I had a better idea what to look for, I found a number of incidents that show this thing, this... evil has been leaking through the Gates."

Picking up a stack of books, she uncovered the huge register of mysterious cases from St. Mungo's. "The fate of Winston Fulbright is just one of the more recognizable instances. There are many others," she said as she tossed other books onto her table. "Some are quite horrible: grisly murders, insanity, feral vampires, and other things that even Dementors shy away from. Most just disappear, but not before Healers or officials report odd hissing and bizarre black marks on their skin. Not at all unlike your friend Hermione, come to think of it."

"I'm not here to talk about Hermione," he said swiftly. "I'm looking for these Death Gates. You called the Veil in Romania the Hidden Gate. Why?"

Valencia sat back, her eyes shifting from Lupin to Harry. "More than a thousand years ago, an ancient tablet was found covered in runes that spoke of ancient doorways to the land of the dead. They had been almost completely forgotten, but since then, Wizards have been seeking them. To be honest, quite a few of them are still missing, but one which had been well known had gone missing. It was said that it was stronger than all the others, so strong that the good wizards of the world banded together and worked to hide and protect it. Most respectable wizards refused to believe it even existed. But some time later, rumors and old stories suggested that there was a Gate somewhere in eastern Europe that wasn't like the others. Legends said that it had been damaged in a great wizarding war, but instead of weakening it, it's power became more... palpable. Again, few people listened to the stories. They presumed that a damaged Gate could never be more potent than a perfect one. Again, it seems they were wrong."

"But there could be more than one that had been hidden, couldn't there?"

She leaned forward with a look of keen interest. "Why would say that?" she asked. "Do you think you've found another? Is that why you're here?"

"Yes. I read about a strange occurrence on Crete and went to investigate. I found one of these Gates under the palace at Knossos, but it had already been destroyed. No one remembered it was there, not even the wizards at Knossos. I know there must be others and I want to find them all," he said firmly, "especially the ones no one remembers."

Valencia stared back at him. "That simply is not possible, Potter. I cannot find them all for you," she replied. "Some of the Gates have passed beyond all memory and record. It's not like there was ever a list of Gates."

"Someone must know," Harry replied, almost pleading. "You said everyone wanted them for their power. You can't tell me that no one ever tried looking for all of them. _Someone_ knows where they all are."

"I'm certain many wizards have gone looking for all of them, but I can assure you they all failed utterly," she answered impatiently. "There are supposedly forty or more of them, but no one has been able to find them all. Only a little more than half that number have ever been found. Those who go looking for the others rarely—"

Valencia's voice cut off sharply and she let out a short gasp. Her eyes widened in shock and she began shoving the books around on the table in front of her, looking at just a few pages before pushing them aside to look at another.

"Could it be... that simple?" she whispered as she glanced down a dusty page. Tossing the book on the floor, she sat back and stared at the ceiling. "Of course they would have— It's only natural— And as soon as someone found out— It must be—" She stopped just as suddenly as she started and stared at Lupin. "It's all the same," she murmured. "It has to be. Why couldn't I see it before? It explains everything."

"What is it?" Harry asked. "What explains everything?"

"I believe you're right, Potter," she said with a wild look in her eyes. "Someone _does_ know where all the Gates are."

"Well, do you know how to find them?"

"No," she said in a chilling tone. "We don't need to find them. We only need to start looking for the Gates and they will find us."

Harry nodded. "Very well. I suppose I only require the locations of a few of these Gates, but they should be the most secretive and hidden locations that you can find in the next two days."

"And what do I get for my work?" she asked, turning his cold gaze on him.

"My trust."

Valencia relaxed in her seat. "I have no need for your trust," she said dismissively. "If that is the best you can give, then I propose a bargain," she began. "I will help you find the Gates, but only if you promise to allow me to join you." Harry was about to object but she quickly raised her hand to stop him. "I have no interest in the Gates, Potter. Someone knows exactly what is happening, and I'd very much like to meet them."

* * *

The next day passed rather uneventfully. He decided it would be best to avoid the Hospital Wing altogether, letting Josef keep an eye on Ginny and pass whatever short messages the two of them had for each other. From the impressions he got from Josef, Ginny seemed to be in good spirits and was actually looking forward to spending time with him that night. 

This was rather encouraging news. He had been fearing the continuation of their confrontation in the Hospital Wing. With any luck, he'd be able to delay it until after they had been given a chance to relax and enjoy each other's company.

Sometime in the late afternoon, during one of the periods of time when Josef was keeping Ginny company, Harry slipped off to the Library to see if Valencia had found anything. Instead of her, he found a locked door with a short note demanding privacy. Not really knowing if this was a good sign or not, he simply pushed it form his mind. If she found anything, she would undoubtedly make sure he found out. He spent the rest of his afternoon losing a series of close chess matches to Ron.

That night, just as they had agreed, Harry and Ginny had slipped away from the Great Hall and made their way up to a very familiar corridor on the seventh floor. After a bit of pacing and some hopeful thoughts, they'd entered the Room of Requirement to find an elegant, dimly lit room with a small table in the very middle of it. It was flanked by a pair of ornate chairs and had a small candelabra lit and standing off to one side.

With an excited smile, Ginny had taken his hand and led him to the table. Within minutes, an eager house-elf had popped into the room with a bottle of wine. It was dusty and covered with dozens of tiny hand prints, but it was more than passable.

Only seconds after they pushed away their empty dinner plates, the house-elf appeared and replaced them with a pair of smaller plates, a sumptuous piece of treacle tart resting on each. However, instead of disappearing again immediately, he hesitated and blinked at them nervously.

"Yes?" prompted Harry, before impatience began to dull the warm happiness he'd been floating in for the last hour.

"Miss Weasley asked that you not be disturbed but— but—" the elf squeaked.

Ginny face fell slightly, but, like Harry, she appeared to fight the thought of being anything other than content. "What is it?" she asked lightly.

"A Miss Granger," the elf replied quickly. "She said it was urgent." Harry sighed as he looked at Ginny. Her lips tightened and she stared at the elf with one eyebrow raised. Obviously daunted by her chilly reaction, it began stepping away. "I will tell her to come back later," it said in a high pitched voice. "I am sorry to interrupt. I—"

"Let her in," Ginny said, rolling her eyes and frowning in disgust.

With a quick nod and a sharp _pop_, the house-elf disappeared. Almost immediately, there was a second, louder _crack_. A stone doorway appeared on one of the walls and only seconds later, the door was opening with a slight creak.

Hermione strode into the room with a heavy bag slung over one of her shoulders and a serious look on her face. After stepping into the room, she paused and surveyed the room around her with a look of mild annoyance. Raising an eyebrow at Harry and Ginny, she pushed the door closed and began walking toward them at a brisk pace.

"I need to talk to you," Hermione announced as she opened the door.

Harry sat back in his chair. "It can't wait until tomorrow?" he asked.

If Hermione heard him, she didn't appear to care. With a flick of her wand, a third chair appeared at the table and she quickly sat down in it. Still ignoring Harry's frown and Ginny's expression of impatience, Hermione swung the bag off her shoulder and pulled a disorganized stack of parchment from it. "We've got a problem," she said.

Though Hermione seemed to be indicating the collection of parchment in her right hand, Harry spotted Ginny looking past it. Following her gaze, his eyes locked onto Hermione's left wrist. It was encased in a black satin glove just as it had been for quite a few weeks, however, there was a small tear along the outside of her wrist which exposed a few inches of her sickeningly pale skin. Traced across its surface were black streaks bordered by an angry reddish color, making it look rather painful.

"It's getting worse," Harry said with a nod toward her arm.

"That's not the problem I'm talking about," she said, withdrawing her arm. "_This_ is what's getting worse." She dropped the stack of parchment down between Harry and Ginny's plates and surreptitiously pulled out her wand to mend her glove.

Harry took a quick look at first few pieces of parchment. They looked like the reports Harrington often had scattered around his office. Skimming over them he realized that they were official reports of the same events he'd read about in the _Prophet_ the day before. Tossing them aside lazily, he leaned back again and frowned at Hermione.

"What exactly is the problem?"

Hermione glared at him, nearly dropping her wand as she tried to slip it back into her pocket. Across the table, Ginny had picked up the reports and stared at them in stunned shock.

"Did you read these Harry?" she said.

"Not really. I'm guessing there wouldn't be many surprises."

"You knew about this?" Hermione gasped. "You knew and you didn't tell anyone?"

Ginny began flipping through the parchment, scanning them quickly. "Trieste, Istanbul, Sparta, Kiev— It's all the same," she said weakly. "Rhodes, Halicarnassus, Crete... He did all of it, didn't he?"

"He?" echoed Harry.

"The hooded wizard, Harry," she snapped almost immediately. "The one who's behind all of this. You knew that he destroyed all those Veils, didn't you?"

Harry glanced at the reports as Ginny paged through them. There was no point in denying it. He had been planning on telling Ginny that night anyway. "I knew that it was happening," he said calmly. "I didn't know about all of them, but I can't say any of them are all that shocking."

"This was it, wasn't it?" Ginny whispered as she stared at one of the reports. "This is what you wouldn't tell me. You've known about this for two days."

Harry nodded.

"Josef knew as well, didn't he?" she continued. "That's where you disappeared to. You left to investigate. Why couldn't either of you tell us?"

Harry stared down at his hands. "There was no reason. What was the point in making you all worry about—"

"What was the point?" snapped Hermione. "You just sat here, reading about the attacks instead of trying to stop them? People were killed, Harry! There have been at least eight attacks and twelve people are missing or dead. A whole patrol of guards in Crete was memory charmed. At least one powerful wizard has simply disappeared and there's no telling how many other people died there. They can't even figure out where it happened."

"Ah, that was my doing," he admitted quickly. "I went to Crete. I had to be certain. The old man —Volakis, I think— he's gone, but the guards... Well, it's better that they're not involved."

Ginny took the news with a stoic expression. Hermione wasn't so reserved. Covering her face with her hands, she let out a frustrated groan. With a deep sigh, she sat up and fixed Harry with an angry look.

"You knew about all of this. You knew what it was doing, that it was killing people and destroying magical artifacts of immense power which have existed for millennia. You even went to Crete to prove that you're right and you didn't feel the need to tell anyone?"

"There was nothing we could do," he repeated.

"We could have warned _someone_!"

"Who are we supposed to warn?" he shot back. "No one even knew there was a Veil at Knossos or half of the other places. Even if we had warned the others, do you honestly think it would have mattered? You saw what happened in Romania. The more people we warn, the more people who die protecting something they don't even understand."

His sudden rebuke made Hermione pause a moment. When she began speaking again, her voice had lost most of its edge. "Someone has to do something, Harry," she said.

"And we will, Hermione, but I won't run off while Ginny's still weak and Josef is still recovering. Until everyone was ready, there was no reason to tell you all about what was happening."

"Well, now we know, so what are we going to do?" she asked.

Harry leaned forward and gently picked up his fork. "I don't know," he answered slowly. "I'm going to drink some wine, eat some treacle tart, and try to relax."

Hermione's lips tightened. "You're going to try to _relax_?" she said icily. "Is that what that's for?" Her gloved hand shot out, pointing stiffly at the four poster bed in the corner.

Though she didn't blush or show any embarrassment, Ginny took that moment to look down and adjust the napkin on her lap. Harry, however, met Hermione's gaze with matching firmness. "What do you want us to do, Hermione?" he asked. "We can't go back in time and save those people. I don't have any sort of schedule that tells me where to go to stop this thing."

"But you've got time to eat treacle tart and... relax," she shot back in a bitter voice. "You know it's not going to stop. What are we supposed to do about the attacks that are happening right now? What about those happening tomorrow? What are we going to do about them?"

Ginny was now watching him from behind a curtain of red hair. His eyes drifted from her back to Hermione. He already knew what he was going to do, he just hadn't told either of them about it just yet. Draining his glass of wine, he set it back on the table and prepared for the worst.

"Nothing," he announced.

"Nothing?" Hermione repeated heavily. "We're going to do nothing?"

"There's nothing we _can_ do, Hermione."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with that situation," she snapped. "I'm tired of doing nothing. I don't know how much more _nothing_ I can handle. I know you've gotten very good at running and hiding, Harry, but I can't hide from_this_," she said, brandishing her gloved arm.

Harry struggled to bottle his frustration. "How many chances do you think we're going to have at stopping this, Hermione?" he said. "Look at what happened last time. I'd say we were pretty lucky. We still don't even know what we're facing. We don't know how to fight it. We've only got a foggy idea what it's doing. As long as we're chasing it, it has the advantage. Until that changes, the best thing we can do is wait just where we are. Eventually we're going to get our chance."

"We don't have time, Harry."

"No, Hermione, time is all we have," he replied.

"So you're just going to sit and wait for some opportunity to present itself?"

"Something like that, yeah," he said. "There's no point in running about when we don't even know what we're doing. Right now, we need information, not action, and a whole week of romantic dinners isn't going to matter.

Hermione frowned and stood up. "Well, at least that's something," she said. "I still do work for the Department of Mysteries. What exactly do you need?"

"Luck," answered Harry. "If we want to try to stop it, we need to know where it's going to be before it gets there. Short of Legilimency or Divination, we're going to have to hope that we're stumble across something."

"And you're just going to sit around waiting for that to happen?"

"Valencia's trying to find some leads," he told her.

Hermione frowned and narrowed her eyes. "You told Valencia," she said with a little displeasure. "Well, at least you did something." She stood up and gathered her reports. "You enjoy your _relaxation_. I'll be spending my night looking for some way to guess where the next attack might be." As she turned away, she paused one last time to apologize to Ginny for the interruption.

Across the table, Ginny was visibly upset by the conversation. She looked almost ill and she refused to let her eyes meet his. Hermione left just as quickly as she had arrived, leaving Harry and Ginny alone again with the treacle tart. He remained hopeful, but the hollow look in her eyes and the mirthless smile on her face told him that he'd find no more comfort or relaxation that night. He pushed aside the small plate in front of him and collapsed in defeat.

* * *

The next day was tense and uncomfortable for almost everyone. More professors were returning and there where fewer opportunities to speak openly about what was happening. Harry spent most of the day avoiding everyone and waiting for Valencia to unlock the door to the library. 

It was the end of the three days that McGonagall had promised him and he knew that they would all be leaving. Ginny was up and walking about without any noticeable fatigue and Josef looked as healthy as he ever had. Madam Pomfrey evicted them both from the Hospital Wing early that afternoon and then quickly locked the Wing and refused to see anyone else.

McGonagall offered to supply them with an evening meal before politely reminding Harry that he'd promised that Josef would be leaving that night. After a tense and surprisingly quiet meal, Harry prepared to leave. Together with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he found Josef and helped pack the few things he had into a small bag which Harry quickly shrunk and slipped into his pocket.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, they found a small group of witches and wizards waiting to see them off. McGonagall was there, flanked by Lupin and Tonks, with Simon standing a little farther back. Justinian was there, too, with a few flakes of snow still laying on his shoulders. Valencia was behind him. Her eyes had found Harry as they descended the stairs. He waited patiently for her to say something or give him some sign, but she just stood calmly against the wall.

It wasn't until they neared the door that she stepped forward and handed a small roll of parchment to Harry. Everyone around him seemed to come to an immediate halt as they waited for him to open it. He already guessed what it was. She'd found something and had waited to tell him until there were plenty of witnesses. Harry turned to Valencia and hoped that whatever it said, it was worth the spectacle she'd created.

He carefully opened the scroll and found just four words:

_Troy_

_Santorini_

_Carthage_

_Ugarit_

He blinked at them for a moment. They were cities, old cities.

Everyone was watching him and waiting for him to say something. He read over the list. He had only faint memories of Ugarit from his History of Magic classes. It had been an ancient settlement of Muggles and Wizards. Like Knossos, it had been destroyed long ago. The others were familiar, but he couldn't immediately see why Valencia had picked them. "You're certain?" he asked. "All of them?"

Valencia shrugged. "There's only one way to be certain," she replied, "but I'm confident. They fit the pattern. They're all very important cities, all were centers of culture and power, and they were all destroyed by war and are currently inhabited by only small numbers of wizards."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny said as she stepped closer to Harry. Looking over his shoulder, she read the parchment. A moment later, she was stepping away and taking quick, shallow breaths.

'What is it?" Ron asked.

"Veils," Ginny growled. "It's a list of locations for other Veils."

Hermione rushed over immediately and looked over the list. "Hold on," she complained, "Santorini was destroyed by a volcano."

Valencia looked at her as if she'd suggested that the sky were green. "Santorini was destroyed by two of the most powerful wizards in history. They destroyed it rather than letting dark wizards take control of it. It's just like Knossos. They did everything they could to make it disappear."

"So, these are important because someone didn't want anyone to find them?" Ron asked, now looking at the parchment as well.

"They're important because no one knows they're there," Harry explained. "Whoever or whatever we're facing, it's trying to avoid notice. If we're going to try and find it, our best shot is to find places where it won't get much attention."

As Harry spoke, he spotted Josef watching all of them from the corner of the hall. It was impossible to work out just what he was thinking, but he wasn't saying anything at all.

"There are four of them," commented Ron. "Does that mean we're going to split up?"

"No, we'll try them one by one until we find a Veil that hasn't been destroyed," Harry told them. "Then we'll watch and wait."

"So, which one is first?" Ron asked.

Almost before he'd finished his question, Ginny blurted out: "Troy."

"What? Wait— How— how do you know?" sputtered Ron.

"Well, it's our best chance," she argued. "They wrote epic tales about the battle for Troy. They had to be interested in more than just some girl. There _must_ be a Veil there."

"I would guess there is," agreed Harry, "but with all the other attacks happening so close, it seems unlikely that it would still be intact. Carthage or Santorini are more likely."

"There are wizarding settlements at Carthage," she shot back. "If its trying to avoid being seen, it would stand a better chance at any of the others."

"The Syrian Ministry has just started digging out the ruins at Ugarit," Hermione said flatly. "If there is a Veil there, they'll find it shortly. Either way, we'll have a hard time getting close to it."

"Santorini or Troy, then," Ginny said confidently.

"They're both very close to Istanbul, Trieste and Knossos," Harry thought aloud. "We might be able to get ahead of it at Carthage."

"Carthage is too far," Ginny fired back. "All the other attacks were near Greece. That's where we should go."

There was something odd in her voice. He'd heard her argue many times, but this wasn't like listening to her and Ron fighting about who's turn it was to buy food. Under her stubbornness was desperation and fear.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked quietly.

Ginny stared at him with her mouth open. "I— I'm not... afraid—" she stammered. "I just, er... I— People's lives are at stake, Harry,"

He stepped closer to her and looked into her eyes. "No, it's more than that. What is it about Carthage that scares you? What do you know?"

Ginny didn't answer him immediately. She simply glared at him. "It's nothing, Harry. You're not listening to me," she finally said. "I think we should go to Troy. It's only been a few days and none of Hermione's reports mentioned Troy. We shouldn't just ignore it because it's close to the others. It fits so much better."

Harry paused a moment to gather his thoughts. Ginny and Josef were watching him intently. The others seemed to be more confused than anything else. She was right, and yet, the way she was arguing was enough to convince him that there was more to the story. He looked at Ginny again and knew what he had to do. She knew something about Carthage and it frightened her. That seemed to be enough proof for him.

"We'll go to Carthage first," he announced. "If we get the opportunity, Troy will be next."

"Harry," Ginny said as she tried to pull him aside, "there's no need to make a decision right now. We should do more research. I'll talk to Harrington.

"There's no time. We're going to Carthage," he said firmly. Ginny's reaction was only strengthening his resolve.

"We had a deal," Valencia announced. "I'm going with you."

This was too much for Josef. He strode forward to glare at Harry. "_No,_" he snapped. "Harry, you need to think about this."

"It's done. We're going to Carthage. There's no time to waste. We leave tomorrow."

A pair of hands gripped at his arm. Ginny was staring at him with a mixture of outrage and betrayal. "Harry, please," she begged. "Not Carthage. It's Troy, I _know_ it is."

It took all of his strength to say no to her, but as soon as he did, Ginny let go and scowled at his with surprising fury.

"I'm leaving," she snarled. "It's obvious that no one cares what I say. I'll see you at home, Harry. That is, assuming that you even care." She spun around and began walking for the door.

Harry reached out to stop her, but Josef jumped in front of him, and held him in place. "Let her go," he whispered. "This is not the place for such things." Harry paused and watched helplessly as Ginny strode through the door. With a pair of bewildered expressions, Ron and Hermione quickly followed her.

* * *

Harry and Josef walked in somber silence. After leaving the Entrance Hall, they had simply stood in the courtyard for some time, letting Ginny, Ron and Hermione continue on ahead of them. They were now far ahead of them and just about to reach the main gate. Josef had been acting oddly ever since the scene in the Entrance Hall. He seemed tense and stiff. Every time Harry looked at him, he felt as if Josef was just barely keeping himself from saying something. 

Harry was fine with that. Everyone seemed to have their own opinions about how he was supposed to handle every single situation, but none of them ever had to take responsibility for the result. At the moment, Harry had no need to hear Josef's advice for how he might have handled the situation better.

As they approached the gamekeeper's cabin, Harry saw that Justinian was there. He was sitting on a stump, running his wand over something small that he was holding in his other hand. It took him a moment to see that it was actually a small curved dagger with a white handle. Despite the appearance, Harry didn't feel at all threatened by it. Instead, it was quietly reassuring, as if Justinian were trying to silently show Harry that he was ready to whatever needed to be done. As they passed by, he looked up at Harry and Josef just long enough to give them a quick nod before returning to his work. Harry nodded in response, but Josef didn't even acknowledge the gesture. It wasn't until they had left the cabin far behind them that Josef finally relaxed and turned to speak to Harry.

"Did you ever consider the possibility that Ginny might have a good reason for not wanting you to go to Carthage?"

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Ahh, I see," Josef said quietly. "You considered it but chose to completely ignore it. How charming of you."

Harry glared at him. "I didn't ignore it. Just the opposite, really. I am absolutely positive she has a very good reason for not wanting us to go there and that's precisely why I chose it."

"I'm afraid I may never understand this idea of British romance," Josef said in a mocking tone. "When I first came here, the others told me the witches here would find me irresistible, but it never really seemed to happen. Perhaps I should have asked you to teach me. You see, where I come from, we trust and respect our women. I'm totally unfamiliar with this idea of premeditated antagonism of loved ones. It certainly is an odd form of flirting."

Harry just rolled his eyes. "She knows something, Josef," he said. "Somehow, she knows about Carthage. She knows there's a Veil there and she's afraid of what might happen. That's precisely the sort of thing I've been looking for. And judging by your inappropriately timed humor, I'd have to guess that you know more about it than you've admitted."

"You are a truly amazing wizard, Harry," Josef laughed bitterly. "Of all the times you might suddenly start to pay attention to those around you, you chose the one moment which has the greatest potential to put you and everyone near you in danger."

"They're already in danger. I'm—"

"—just making it worse," Josef finished for him. "It's getting hard to convince myself that you're not doing it on purpose. Are you mad? Seriously, Harry? Have you suffered some sort of injury while I was gone?" Josef asked sharply. "You're dead set on going to Carthage despite —no, _because_ you're certain that Ginny has proof that it will be dangerous and even after everything I've given you and all the warnings and suspicious behavior, you went to _Valencia_ with the most sensitive information we had."

"I needed answers," Harry replied, "and she found them for me."

"She gave you what you asked for, yes," said Josef, "but at what cost? Now you're in an even worse position with nothing more to show for yourself."

Harry turned on him. "Who else should I have gone to, then? The Brotherhood? The Department of Mysteries? Who else would know? You don't! I certainly don't. Where else can I go? Who else can I trust?"

"Not her, Harry. You don't understand." Josef said in a softer voice. "She's not..."

Harry waited for Josef to finish his sentence, but all he got was silence. In truth, he still didn't trust Valencia, but he hadn't seen much choice. In his eyes, it had been a worthwhile trade. He hadn't expected Josef to approve. He'd expected him to lash out at her like he had so many times before, but his sudden hesitation made Harry curious. "She's not what?" he prompted.

Confusion filled Josef's eyes. "She's not what she seems," he said slowly. "She isn't here to help us. There is something else that drives her. She doesn't care about you or your friends. She's using you."

"And I'm using her," replied Harry. "I'll continue to do the same as long as she remains useful,"

"She is treacherous. She'll sacrifice you the moment she believes it will get her what she wants," he insisted. When this didn't have the effect he had hoped, Josef became visibly agitated. "She has killed people."

"So have you," Harry countered.

"And you," Josef shot back, "but she's not like us."

"Why not?"

"You and I were forced to kill in order to save others," he explained forcefully. "She _chose_ to kill them. She did it to save herself and "

"Hold on, _who_ did she kill?"

"I— It's not—" he stammered a bit. "I don't remember." A troubled expression washed across his face. "Maybe I never knew at all. I don't know how or when I learned it. It's something I... know. Like it's always been there in my mind." Josef's eyes began darting about. "Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's another lie, but— I don't believe so. I know many things... horrible things, things I wish I didn't know. Some of them are true and some of them aren't —or aren't yet true."

"Some of those things may end up being useful," commented Harry.

Josef just shook his head and stared blankly at the horizon. "No, there's nothing to learn from them. There is no purpose or value to them."

"You don't know that. Maybe—"

"No, Harry," he snapped, "I _do_ know that. That's the whole point. The things I see in my dreams, they— they are real, but they hold no truth. There is no reason for you to decipher. They are only pain and suffering." Josef's head dropped to stare at his left hand as he opened and closed it. "Perhaps I deserve them. Perhaps they are my punishment."

"Punishment?" asked Harry. "Punishment for what?"

"I've done horrible things, Harry," he said. "Back in Romania, I— I can't even start to begin to describe them, but I remember them. I wish I didn't. I wish they weren't true. I've never felt such rage and hatred. I tried to fight it, but—"

"Relax, everyone understands," Harry tried to reassure him. "We know it wasn't really you."

"Wasn't it?" replied Josef. "They were my hands. It was my name they cried as they begged for me to stop. I was the one who watched as their souls were ripped from their bodies. Am I innocent just because I couldn't stop it?" Harry didn't know what to say and Josef didn't wait for a response.

"I could feel the power gathering inside me. You can't imagine how it feels. Maybe I could have fought it more if I hadn't— It was intoxicating," he said, interrupting himself. "It was like a venom, spreading through me, poisoning me from the inside. I wanted to fight it, but— How do you fight yourself? How do you stop something when you cannot even tell what is real and what is a dream?"

"There must be a way," Harry said with as much confidence as he could gather. "The Seer said that it had been imprisoned behind the Veil for a very long time. That means that someone was fighting it. They found a way to put it there. We just need to find how they did it."

"What if—" began Josef, "What if it wasn't the same when it was first put there? What if being there... changed it?"

"I expect it has," Harry said soberly, "but not so much that it can't be stopped and it knows that. It's destroying the Veils. It's afraid that we'll figure out how to stop it. We just have to hope we can do that before it destroys the last Veil. Of course, it would help if we had any idea what it really is."

Josef nodded vacantly and stared into Harry's eyes. "Perhaps we already do. You looked into the Veil in Romania. What did you see?"

Harry felt oddly exposed. It felt as though Josef's gaze was looking through him. "I saw what it wanted me to," he answered. "It was just a trick. It was manipulating Grigore and it was trying to manipulate me. It doesn't matter—"

"You saw it," Josef interrupted. His expression was confused, but there was no uncertainty in his voice. "That's why Grigore was so certain. You recognized it immediately. You had to. It was you."

There was nothing Harry could do. It hadn't been a question. He knew that if he denied it, Josef would see through the lie. He nodded slowly and Josef didn't seem surprised at all.

"What does it mean?" he asked with a dazed look on his face. "It has to mean something, but then, why did—" His eyes blinked a few times and he began looking all around him as if the hills might hold some answer.

There was something which was bothering Harry. He'd wondered about it long ago, but pushed the question from his mind. At the time, there were much more pressing concerns for him to deal with and it didn't seem to matter all that much. Now, the question returned to his mind.

"You looked into the Veil, too," Harry began. "What did you see?"

For a moment Josef remained silent, staring at the path leading back to Hogwarts. Then he closed his eyes and began speaking as if remembering a dream from long ago.

"After Grigore sent you off to watch Henri, he disappeared for a few days. Most of the members barely noticed. Of those who did, many thought that he'd actually left to meet with you and talk about how he would name you to be his successor. I never knew where he went, but he returned two days before you did.

"That night, he called me down to the Veil Chamber. I had no idea what it was or what it's purpose it served. He taught me a spell which put up some sort of shield around the Veil. We practiced it together until we were comfortable using it. Then, he stepped closer to it, leaving me to protect him. It took him a little while to recover from the experience, and he wouldn't tell me what he had seen. Instead, he told me to see for myself."

Josef pressed his face into his hands. "Later he told me that he saw a wizard on the other side. He said... he said that it looked like you."

"And what about you?" Harry asked. "What did you see?" Josef lowered his hands and stared toward the setting sun.

"Anger, pain, and fear."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So everyone finally hears the rest of the story about Lucy. This should make her a little more interesting to people, or at the very least, it should make people understand some of her behavior. The next chapter, ominously named 'Carthage', should be posted soon. I'd say Monday at the latest.


	7. Carthage

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

**Carthage**

* * *

Harry and Josef arrived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place to find Ron and Hermione waiting for them in the kitchen. Hermione discretely offered Josef a seat and met Harry's questioning look with a quick nod toward the parlor door. 

He found Ginny waiting for him on the other side of the door. For a moment he thought they might continue their previous argument, but when he looked into her eyes, he found tears, not anger. She didn't try to threaten him or beg him to change his mind. She simply wrapped her arms around him and apologized for everything she'd said.

All his questions and unspoken accusations melted away, leaving him with only regret for his own actions. They didn't speak any more about the decision he'd made or why Ginny was so set against it. Harry had already had a good guess, but he knew he'd sleep better if it remained just a guess and didn't become chilling reality.

Ginny, too, was in no mood for questions. She didn't ask what happened in Crete or why he insisted on ignoring her requests. In a soft yet firm voice, she told him that she would be going with him and that she didn't want him taking any foolish risks. They both understood just how practical such a statement was, yet the message was clear: They would be facing danger but they'd be doing it with their eyes open. Harry found some sort of comfort in that and Ginny seemed oddly relieved as well.

Upon entering the kitchen again, they found Ron and Hermione sitting in somber silence at the table. They were both visibly relieved upon seeing Harry and Ginny holding hands. Josef had been all the way across the room, pacing impatiently in the corner. He mostly regarded them with something between uncertainty and skepticism, but made no overt gestures which suggested he felt he was owed an explanation.

Harry and Ginny sat down at the table. As if by silent accord, they summoned up a pair of bottles of wine and filled five goblets. They spoke for some time, though none of them expressed much interest in specifics of just what was supposed to happen the next day. Harry noted with grim satisfaction that they had become very much like the bands of veteran Aurors or senior Brotherhood members. When actually facing danger, they didn't waste much time worrying or talking about it. They had faced this before. They already understood the danger and the stakes involved. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

As Harry finished his goblet, he advised all of them to get a good night's rest. They weren't planning on taking off until mid-morning, but they knew there was a good chance they would be facing a powerful dark wizard that afternoon. They would need to be as alert and rested as possible.

Ron and Hermione were the first to leave, grabbing the small bags of clothes they'd brought with them from Hogwarts. Josef was the next to move for the door. He had tried to tell Harry that he'd be staying at a nearby inn, but Harry refused to listen. They had a bit of an argument which moved from the kitchen out to the corridor which led to the front door. It ended abruptly as Ginny grabbed Josef's robes and began tugging him up the stairs.

Harry led both of them up to the second floor where he quickly pointed out all of the important features before ushering Josef to one of the larger bedrooms just down the corridor from the one Harry and Ginny used. Josef took the opportunity to protest again with little effect. The second attempt was even more brief than the first, ending in a polite smile and Harry quickly shutting the door on Josef's complaints.

* * *

Despite his own advice, Harry woke early the next morning. He'd slept only lightly, though without any nightmares. It seemed that Ginny helped prevent that sort of thing. 

She awoke not long after him. They sat together on the bed in peace and watched the first rays of sunlight pierce through the wispy winter morning and slip into their room. It was oddly encouraging to simply sit there and watch the start of a new day.

After the sun had risen well over the tops of the nearby trees, Harry and Ginny decided to accept the inevitable and venture downstairs to begin preparing for the uncertainty they'd face that day. Walking into the kitchen, they found Josef was already there, hunched over a simple cup and the morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_. He greeted them with a slow nod and turned back to his reading.

Harry took a seat across from him and scanned the headlines. Nothing looked terribly dire, but he knew that Josef had already searched the issue thoroughly. He seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking. Before he could ask, Josef had folded the _Prophet_ and slid it over toward him.

"Nothing terribly interesting," he said in a tired voice. "Or, perhaps, the terribly interesting thing is that nothing happened. There were two more before Knossos, but there's been nothing since then."

Ginny took this moment to begin preparing a rather large pot of tea in the fireplace. Harry noticed the rather conspicuous decision but said nothing. Nothing could be done about it. She returned a minute later to set a pair of cups on the table in front of him and carefully fill them with steaming, fragrant liquid. She offered some to Josef, but he simply waved his hand and kept his eyes on his empty cup. With a shrug, Ginny gently placed the teapot in the center of the table and took a seat next to Harry. Josef still hadn't reacted and she was watching him with concern.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked as he breathed in the vapors.

"Didn't sleep well," Josef answered flatly.

"Some tea might help," suggested Ginny.

Josef's head tipped up enough for him to glare wearily at her. "I really doubt that."

"Well it can't hurt," she said cheerily. Before he could stop her, she'd picked up the teapot and began pouring tea into his cup.

Josef stared at it as if it might somehow turn on him. Then, with frown he carefully raised the cup to his lips and took a drink. Harry watched in amusement as took a second taste before setting it back down. Frowning sourly at the drink Ginny had forced upon him, he reached into his robes and retrieved a small, flat bottle filled with a dark amber liquid.

"What is that?" Ginny asked.

"Firewhisky," answered Josef as he twisted the cork.

"Firewhisky! What do you think you're doing?"

He poured some of the liquid into the tea. "I'm improving it."

"I don't see how."

"Well, it can't hurt," he replied with a crooked smile.

"Trouble sleeping?" Harry asked.

Josef frowned and shook his head. "No, no trouble at all. No sleep either, but so long as I don't try, I don't have to deal with the disappointment of failure."

Harry carefully set his cup back on the table and stared at Josef sternly. "You can't keep doing this, and now is probably the worst time to continue trying. You should know better than all of us just how important this is. I need you to be alert."

"And I need to keep my sanity, Harry," Josef replied flatly. "I know how to take care of a little drowsiness."

"Firewhisky is the cure, is it?" challenged Harry.

"No," Josef replied as he tipped back his cup. "Firewhisky is a passable solution to the agonizing headache. The drowsiness will go away just as soon as someone tries to kill me. I've never been murdered in my sleep, so it stands to reason that violence tends to keep me awake."

Harry just shook his head. "Well, I know I'm feeling a lot better this whole thing."

"Wish I was," groaned Josef as he finished the cup. "If you'd have let me find a nice inn—"

"Then I'd probably end up spending my morning trying to convince the Ministry to release you," Harry finished for him.

"They've got no reason to be looking for me."

"Perhaps not, but if they found you, you'd find out just how interested they are in you. Auguste Reynard is still here and he's as hungry for power as ever. He knows you were in the Brotherhood and he's seen the reports from Romania. If he saw you alive, he'd toss you in a cell until you told him how you managed all of it."

Josef flashed a quick smirk. "I'm sure you'd find a way to rescue me."

Harry wasn't amused. "And we'd lose our best chance of finding out what is really going on before it comes here to find us."

"Well, I hope it's worth it," Josef mused as he stared into the bottom of his cup. "I'd hate to think that I lost a couple extra nights of sleep just so you could go on a bit of a holiday."

* * *

Once Ron and Hermione were awake, they began gathering everything they would need for the day. This time, Hermione insisted that they bring along some manner of emergency supplies. She approached Harry with a stern look, obviously determined to convince him of their necessity. He agreed before she even managed to finish her first sentence. The memory of Ginny's blood spreading across the courtyard in Romania was more than enough to do Hermione's job for her. 

As Ron helped her pack, Harry went to the fireplace and waited for a sign from Lupin. Though it took much longer than he would have liked, the flames eventually turned a bright emerald and Lupin's face appeared. They talked briefly, just long enough to agree upon a place and time to meet. They all agreed that they'd attract less attention if they traveled in smaller groups.

For once, Josef seemed impressed by Harry's preparations. Within minutes, everything was in place and they were ready to leave. It was only then that Harry realized that Ginny was nowhere to be found. Balancing on the edge of panic, he bolted up the stairs and began calling for her frantically. He threw himself around the corner at the top of the stairs and ran for the door to their room. When he was only inches from it, the door swung open quickly and Harry skidded to a halt just before slamming into Ginny.

She looked nearly as panicked as he was and immediately asked if there was some problem. Upon hearing that her disappearance was the problem, she looked away and apologized immediately.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said as she fixed her robes. "You were busy with Lupin and there was— Well, I thought I'd be back before you even noticed. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Harry sighed in relief and would have hugged her if she hadn't already slipped past him. "It's time to go, isn't it?" she asked as she began walking down the stairs quickly. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and he felt a little embarrassed at his overreaction. He could only imagine the ribbing he'd get from Josef when he returned. After taking one last moment to compose himself, he turned around and began walking back down the stairs.

Everyone was waiting for him at the front door. Hermione was adjusting the glove she wore over her left arm while preparing to slip a matching one onto her right arm. Ron was behind her, with the small bag of supplies slung over his back. When Hermione was finished, she looked up at Harry and he gave her a quick nod.

It was time.

Ron and Hermione were the first to leave. Though no one actually expected the Ministry to be watching them or even have any reason to stop them, neither Harry nor Josef thought it would help them if the Ministry knew what they were up to. Of the group of them, Hermione was the one most likely to be tracked by the Ministry, so she and Ron had been given the most complex route. They were to Apparate to the_Leaky Cauldron_ where they would then take the Floo to Oslo. From there, they'd find another fireplace so they could make their way to Madrid and then finally to a small inn just outside of the remains of Carthage.

Harry and Ginny would take Josef with them on a somewhat shorter route. They would be Apparating directly to Calais where Josef knew of a well-connected dark magic shop. They'd be able to take the Floo directly to the inn at Carthage. Harry was quite happy with this, as it would ensure that he, Josef, and Ginny were there before anyone else. If things were already bad, he didn't want any of them to pay the price for his risky decisions.

They watched from the front door and waited for Ron and Hermione to Disapparate. After waiting a minute or two to see that nothing out of the ordinary was happening, Harry, Josef and Ginny all walked through the front door and calmly crossed the street to the dark alley.

Moments later, they were in a cramped, dingy street somewhere near the docks at Calais. Josef led them quickly to the dark magic shop and slipped a pair of gold pieces to the squint-eyed shopkeeper in the very back. He ushered them into a filthy cellar which had a wide fireplace at the far end. Josef retrieved three small pouches and instructed everyone to take one. He didn't even give Harry the chance to try and insist upon being the first through the fireplace. Harry had barely opened his pouch before Josef had disappeared in a whirl of green flame. He gave Ginny a quick kiss, tossed a handful of powder into the flames and disappeared.

* * *

Ginny tumbled out of the fireplace onto a rough mat. The room was dim, with the only light coming in from a set of windows on the far side. She found her feet and, as she began to stand, a hand reached out to offer her some assistance. She took it gladly but nearly let go when she realized that it wasn't Harry. 

"Welcome to Carthage," Lupin greeted her flatly.

Rubbing the dust from her eyes, Ginny got a first look at her surroundings. If they truly were in a inn, it certainly wasn't a very popular one. A small collection of tables and chairs were stacked in a pair of dusty heaps behind her. Along the wall to her left was some manner of long table which could have passed for a bar. A sturdy door suggested some sort of back room. The whole place felt distinctly_empty_, making her feel like she had invaded someone else's private space.

Her discomfort with her surroundings had momentarily prevented her from being properly surprised at finding Lupin waiting for her. She turned to ask him if anything unexpected had happened but it was obvious that his attention was elsewhere. Following the direction of his gaze, she quickly realized that she wasn't the only one to notice the unexpected change in plans. Standing not far from the main door, she found Harry and Josef in a heated discussion with a rather stern-faced Valencia Desmoda. At the moment, Josef seemed to be doing most of the speaking.

"You did _what_?" he asked sharply.

Valencia gave him a bored look. "I thought we were trying to avoid being noticed."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Josef was faster. "And your idea of stealth is attacking three wizards in an inn? The last thing we need is another report of a band of wizards attacking innocent people."

"They weren't killed, merely Stunned and Obliviated."

"I'm sure the authorities will be mindful of the difference."

"What were we supposed to do?" Valencia replied. "Do you think they were going to just stand there and say nothing while a group of ten witches and wizards assembled in the room? Do you think they wouldn't report that to anyone?"

"That doesn't matter!

Valencia stepped closer to Harry and Josef, her pale face tight with restrained anger. "Who are you to question me? What fantasy of yours has led you to believe you are my superior? Have already forgotten our discussion? I will do as I will, and you will remember your place while in my presence."

Josef was livid. "I warned you about this," he growled at Harry. "We cannot trust her."

"I'm tired of your pointless suspicion," Valencia snapped back at him. "You don't know anything about me."

Josef scowled. "Yes, I believe that's my point, exactly."

"Your childish fears are no concern of mine," replied Valencia. "Potter and I made a _bargain_. This is _payment for services rendered,_" she said in a slow, deliberate tone. "I have done my part, and diligence demands that I see that Potter fulfills his part of the agreement. Our early arrival ensures that."

"—and proves yet again that you do not keep your word."

"Enough, Josef," Harry said wearily. "They are here. Nothing dangerous was waiting for us. It doesn't really matter."

"No, Harry, it _does_ matter," Josef said, turning on Harry. "Don't you see? Not only has she lied to you, but she's twisted your friend to her side. While her methods of persuasion are far from original, you cannot deny their effectiveness. If you don't put an end to this now—"

"Before you decide just where to shackle us," Valencia interrupted in silky tones, "you might be interested to know that Remus was quite opposed to our early departure."

Josef glared at her. "And yet here you are," he sneered. "I don't suppose you've got an explanation for that, do you?"

"I was outvoted," Lupin announced as he stepped around Ginny.

Josef gave him a bewildered glare. "Outvoted? How? There's only two of you. I can't see how the vote could be anything but a tie or unanimous decision. That is, of course, unless you were drunk enough to let her _dog_ vote."

"No, not Vink," replied Lupin. "Justinian. He's doing some shopping for us at the moment."

"Justinian!" cried Josef, throwing his hands into the air. "Are you completely mad? What could have possibly convinced you that bringing him here —much less giving him a say in any decision— would be a good idea? Harry always said you were sensible. You have to know he's only here for one reason. I suppose some wizards like a bit of competition, but you're—"

"He's the only one of us who's actually been here before," Lupin spoke over him. "He spent years traveling northern Africa. At the very least, he knows the customs."

Josef frowned. "More likely he made up some story just to trick you into letting him tag along."

The argument would have continued, but at that moment Ginny heard the familiar rush of flame behind her. She turned just in time to see Ron tumble out of the fireplace. A second later, he was on his feet and pointing his wand at Lupin and Ginny.

"Oh good," he panted. "Just you lot. Gave me a bit of a scare at first. I thought I heard angry voices."

"You did," Harry answered from across the room. Looking pointedly at Josef, he added: "It's alright, though. It's been handled."

Hermione arrived a moment later and was quickly pulled to her feet by Ron. The next minute was spent in tense silence as everyone waited for something important to happen. Harry and Josef retreated back to Ginny's side, letting Valencia stand in the dark corner with a sour expression. The arrival of Tonks and Simon did little to improve the mood, only adding additional awkwardness as they looked from one person to the next, searching for the unspoken cause for the heavy atmosphere.

With a piercing squeak, the door to the inn swung open. In an instant, eight wands were pointed at the silhouette of a wizard in the doorway. Justinian stepped calmly into the room and closed the door, ignoring every last one of them. Ginny noticed a large wrapped bundle under his left arm.

"You found them already?" Valencia asked lightly. "You found all of it, even the—"

"Yes, my memory is just fine, thank you," he said, sounding a little annoyed. He quickly pulled his wand out and waved it lazily at one of the tables stacked against the wall. It jumped down onto the floor and galloped across the room, stopping obediently in front of him. He set the large bundle on the table and untied the ropes holding it together. He rolled the contents out across the table, revealing them to be a set of pale cloaks.

Ron was the first to step forward and take a closer look. After prodding one and not getting any objections, he grabbed it and held it up. "It's a nice gesture, but I think I'll just stick with black. I never really thought I looked good in white."

Justinian began picking them up one by one and handing them to everyone around him. "They're locally made. We'll have better luck if we try to look like we belong here." Taking the one he offered her, Ginny stared in awe at the quality of it. It seemed plain enough, but the fabric had a soft, luxurious feel to it. It was supple and silky and yet still heavy enough to make for a high quality cloak. She was about to comment on Justinian's excellent selection when she saw Valencia scowling at him.

"What is this?" she asked, holding up one of the edges of the cloak to reveal the brightly colored trim. "Is this actually gold?" Before Justinian could answer, she crushed the cloak into a ball and launched it at his chest. "I knew I should have sent Remus," she snapped. "We can't walk around in those. You can't tell me everyone out there is strolling about a desert city wearing clothes trimmed in gold and silver."

Justinian slowly straightened the cloak. "Not all of them, no," he replied in a calm voice, "only the very wealthy ones. While there may not be many here who can afford cloaks like these, it happens often enough that it's not really noteworthy, and the locals tend to keep their distance from them." With a thin smile he offered the cloak back to Valencia. She accepted it grudgingly, quickly slipping it around her shoulders.

Ron had been watching her, and as she pulled the hood over her head, he stared down at his own cloak with distaste. "Does anyone else think the hoods might not be a good idea?" he asked sheepishly. "What I mean to say is... don't you think we'll look more suspicious if we're walking about like we're trying to disguise ourselves?"

Lupin took a cloak from Justinian and immediately put it on. "No, we'll look like nothing more than a group of wealthy wizards who wish to be left alone," he explained. "You have to admit, Valencia. It is a clever solution."

She still wasn't pleased. "It's an _expensive_ solution, Remus. These aren't transfigured, they're real. Where did you get them, Justinian?" she asked. "Did you steal them? How many more wizards did you Stun?"

"None at all," he said with a smile as he passed a pair of cloaks to Simon and Tonks.

Even Lupin was looking doubtful. "She's got a point, you know. If you can afford to buy these then I need to speak to Minerva. You're obviously getting paid far better than I am."

He handed a cloak to Harry and picked up the last one for himself. "There was no theft involved, and I am certain that you are still paid better than I am. I told you I have been here before and I know where such things can be found easily. This is not my first time to the city and there are wizards here who owe me favors. For now, that should be enough. We all have our little secrets, don't we?"

"I don't," chimed Ron.

"I always assumed yours was that you actually did know what you were doing in front of those goal hoops," Josef said in a low voice. "Perhaps I was wrong."

Ron glared at Harry who had quickly stifled a laugh and turned on Josef. "I'm better than half the Keepers in Britain! It's not my fault our Beaters are rubbish and our Chasers—"

"Hold on," Valencia interrupted, robbing Ron of his chance to defend himself. "This isn't everything," she growled as at Justinian. "You told me you found everything."

Justinian raised a hand to calm her. "If you would show a little patience—"

"I have little patience for excuses," she warned him. "Either you have them or you don't. I think I've been quite tolerant of you up to this point."

"Hold on, what are you talking about?" Harry asked as he stepped between them.

Instead of answering, Justinian reached into his robes and pulled out a smaller bundle of white fabric. Unrolling it quickly, he removed what looked to be a pair of white strips of satiny fabric and offered them to Valencia. She accepted them reluctantly and walked away without another word.

"I was hoping to find a more sensitive way of doing this, but it seems we are in a bit of a hurry," Justinian said, obviously avoiding Valencia's glare. He separated the rest of the bundle, handing pairs of the fabric strips to Tonks, Ginny and finally Hermione.

Ginny gave hers a suspicious look and held them up inspect them. It took only a second to realize that they were long gloves made of white silk. "Do the women here really wear these?" she asked. "Or maybe just the wealthy ones?"

"Neither, I'm afraid to say," replied Justinian. "It's unfortunate and I wish there was another way, but... this is the best we can do."

Ginny was still confused. "But, I thought we were trying to blend in—"

"We are," Valencia said as she slipped her arm into one of her gloves. "Making ourselves appear wealthy will be effective in keeping others at a distance, but we need to be easily forgettable as well. We are memorable enough as a group of ten strangers, anything that easily sets one of us apart from the rest makes it all the worse."

Ginny realized that Valencia wasn't looking at her anymore, but Hermione. She was staring down at her hands. In her right hand, she held the new set of gloves. The left was empty but she stared at it with disgust as she opened and closed it a few times.

Valencia had already moved on to her second glove. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, Miss Granger would be even more noteworthy were she to remove those gloves she's been wearing every day for the last month. So, the only solution is for all of the witches to wear gloves. It is a tradition which is not completely unheard of."

Ginny carefully pulled the gloves over her arms, feeling the soft pressure of the fabric stretching over her skin. They were more comfortable than she expected, and she was about to comment about it when she saw that Hermione still had not made any motion to put hers on. Everyone was watching her —except for Ron. He quickly walked to her side and whispered something into her ear. Ginny suddenly understood. She didn't want everyone to see her arm. She didn't want them to be disgusted or frightened or filled with pity. Ginny walked over to Hermione's other side and helped Ron guide her to the darkest corner of the room.

"It's alright, Ginny," whispered Ron. "I've got it."

Ginny stepped back, but couldn't turn away as Hermione peeled the black glove from her left arm. Even in the dim light, her hand looked pale and sickly. Dark purple streaks spidered across her fingers and all the way back to her wrist where they merged with large dark grey patches which seemed to continue up her arm. Ginny felt her stomach clenching and finally forced herself to turn away. A moment later, Ron walked past her to stand in the middle of the room.

"Is there anything else?" he asked stiffly. No one answered. "Right then. I think it's time we do whatever it is we're here to do."

* * *

Walking out of the inn, Ginny had to shield her eyes from the glare off the pale, sandy street. Through narrowed eyes, she tried to find the pick her way through the broken stones paving the path to the inn. Glancing around at the others, she felt better about her apparently clumsiness as she saw them doing much the same thing. Only Josef and Justinian had adjusted to the noon sun. 

Beyond the rough stone street and the inn, there really wasn't much around them which might be called a city. There were a small number of buildings, most of them crumbling or already in ruins. It was just as barren as she'd been led to believe. In the distance, more buildings could be seen along with a few tiny shapes of witches and wizards moving about between them.

While Ginny looked out across the sparsely populated horizon, Harry pressed ahead, making his way to the front of the group. Ginny followed close behind him. It wasn't until they had joined Justinian and Josef that she thought to look for Ron and Hermione.

With a quick glance behind her, she spotted the two of them walking in the very back of the group. Ron had his arm around her and she was clutching at her left arm protectively. Ginny felt a pang of sympathy and tapped Harry's shoulder to point it out to him, but he only frowned slightly and gave a quick shrug. He was right, there really wasn't anything that could be done about it.

She tried to put it out of her mind as they walked. In truth, there were much bigger things for her to worry about. Despite the mask of acceptance she'd worn for Harry, she'd never really managed to get rid of the icy dread which seemed to fill her chest.

_If he brings the Jewel, I will let him live. If not... I will teach him a new form of pain._

The words the cloaked wizard had told her in her nightmare still echoed in the deepest parts of her mind. The previous night, just before Harry walked into the parlor, she had convinced herself to tell him. The moment he walked in, her resolve was swept aside by fear and despair. She had seen the determination in his eyes. Even if he knew, it wouldn't stop him. It would only drive him harder. If he knew, he would turn Carthage into a battlefield.

In that instant, she'd made up her mind. There was another course of action. Though she couldn't fathom the reason why, the cloaked wizard had refused to attack her. If she let Harry go and insisted on coming with him, she might be able to protect him long enough to let him escape.

Of course, that would require her to stand up to the thing which had silently stalked her nightmares for so long. She recognized all the signs now. Grigore Tarus had seen them, too, even while his mind was being twisted and consumed. He knew that the cloaked wizard wanted her, that it blamed her for something far beyond her power, and yet she alone had the power to hold it in check.

Could she have saved Tarus? The question brought on a new wave of turbulent thoughts. Was that what he wanted? He had he sought her in hopes of finding the one person who might be capable of protecting him from the evil behind the Veil?

It didn't matter, she told herself. That was in the past. She had to keep her mind on the present, though that would have been easier if the present didn't require her to face something which had rendered her so thoroughly helpless in her dreams. She tried to prepare herself by remembering as much as she could about every other confrontation. There had to be something there, some piece of information that would give her an advantage.

Her attempt was a miserable failure. Every memory was filled with pain and despair and nearly catastrophic defeat. From the very first moment she had looked through the Veil, she had been helpless to stop it, and yet she had always survived. Doubt crept out from the corners of her mind. Evelyn had wanted to kill her and it wasn't Harry who had truly stopped her. The vampires that attacked her appeared to stop their attack of their own accord. Had it truly been Tarus who meant to save her? Had he been in control, or was it just the first in a line of fabricated miracles meant to keep her alive at all costs?

The sickening thought grew until it was almost impossible to deny. It hadn't just been letting her live, it had been _protecting_ her. She felt horribly ill and let herself lag back a little to keep Harry from noticing. It was toying with her, tormenting her like some pitiful animal that didn't even see the cage it was in.

Perhaps if she let it believe she still didn't know, she would still be able to use it to her advantage. She tried to think just what she would do when it came time for her to face the wizard behind all of it, but her mind kept returning to the horrible dream she had in the Hospital Wing. Was that how it would truly be? It had not hurt her and yet the memory was far worse than the feeling of her blood slowly draining from her body. She would protect Harry, no matter what it took. It wasn't the thought of pain which frightened her. It was the nauseating feeling of involuntary pleasure she had felt which truly terrified her. She could never let Harry see her like that.

"Which way?" Justinian called out, pulling Ginny from her thoughts. They had reached a split in the road, with a pair of paths heading off in opposite directions.

"How am I supposed to know?" Harry replied. "You're the one who's supposed to know the city. Where would the Veil be?"

Justinian frowned a bit and looked either way before turning back to the group of them. He seemed to look about for a moment as if hoping that someone else might make a suggestion.

"He doesn't know," Valencia groaned with disgust. "Well, that was really impressive, Justinian. I could have gotten us here."

"We're looking for someplace old," Josef said quickly, obviously trying to avoid an argument in the middle of the street. "Someplace underground, if I had to guess."

"This whole place is old," Justinian replied, still looking a little uncertain, "and if we're looking for something underground, we're clearly going about it the wrong way."

Harry was becoming visibly frustrated. Pointing off to the right, he spoke up over the rest of the group. "All of the Veils have been under castles. If there are any castles here, they've got to be that way." Ginny followed his arm and spotted a few clumps of taller, more massive building rising over the remains of heavy stone walls. Without hesitation, Justinian nodded and began walking where Harry had told him.

They hadn't gone more than a few steps before Ginny heard Ron's voice calling for them all to stop. Harry and Ginny both turned around and saw Hermione standing back where the two paths split. Her posture was stiff and tense. Ron was standing halfway between her and the rest of the group with a worried look on his face.

"That's the wrong way," Hermione said in an emotionless voice. "We need to go this way." She slowly raised her left arm to point in the opposite direction.

"There's nothing over there," Simon tried to tell her.

"No," she said in the same empty tone. "There is something."

While everyone stared at her in confusion, Harry had already turned around to walk back to her. "Justinian," he called back over his shoulder. "what's over there?"

"Well, to be honest, not all that much," he answered. "There is an old marketplace that still gets some use. There are some ruins, but they're everywhere, and I think there are a number of run down houses."

Harry didn't even slow down to listen to what he had said. He just continued walking past Hermione and along the left-hand path. Ginny ran to catch up with him while the others struggled to understand the sudden reversal.

"Hold on, Potter," Valencia called out, earning her a sharp warning from Josef for the use of Harry's name. "Are you going to tell us why you're so willing to take her word over everything logic and sense suggest?"

Hermione was quick to respond: "That's why I'm here."

A brief and hushed argument occurred as all of them walked along the path at a brisk pace. Valencia took the opportunity to once again insist that they be told exactly what had happened to Hermione, while Simon and Lupin continued to question the unexplained change of course. Only Ron and Justinian seemed to be comfortable with the decision, though Justinian seemed to be simply focused on doing as Harry said, while Ron had chosen to ignore everyone but Hermione.

"We really should think about this," Lupin argued. "There are too few wizards here to hide amongst. If we are trying to avoid unwanted attention we really need to find this Veil as quickly as possible. We don't have time to take risks like this."

"Not to mention that we don't even know if we can trust her," Valencia said as she tossed a look at Hermione. "This might be nothing more than her desire to avoid crowds."

"No. She's right. This is the way," Harry announced. Only a few feet away from him, Ginny noticed that his voice was oddly strained. Looking at his face, she got the distinct impression that he was trying to hide some sort of pain. She was just about to ask when she saw him reach up and absentmindedly rub the middle of his forehead. Carefully, she reached out to touch his shoulder. When he turned to look at her, she managed to get a brief glimpse of his scar under the shadow cast by his hood. It was darker than normal, and it had taken on a red, inflamed appearance as though it was a recent injury still on the mend.

"Harry, your scar," she whispered.

"Yes, I had noticed, thank you," he hissed under his breath.

Any more questions about Harry's well-being or further arguments over his questionable decision were silenced immediately as they passed between a pair of large stone statues and found themselves in a expansive, open market. It was nothing like the dark cavern under Vienna or the crowded market alleys of Romania, yet they all seemed to share a similar spirit as people flowed about, churning amidst hundreds of momentary, impersonal confrontations. They hadn't taken a dozen steps before the first merchants turned to eye them with interest.

"We're taking a risk, Harker," whispered Josef.

"We're headed in the right direction," Harry replied under his breath.

"And being less than subtle about how we get there," added Josef as he walked out ahead of the group.

As they continued walking through the market, they began to understand the value of the cloaks Justinian had chosen for them. While they were the target of quite a few hopeful glances, no one seemed to risk the apparent insult of standing in their path. In fact, the closer they got, the more readily everyone moved aside for them.

Though unhindered by both merchants and customers, their presence had hardly gone unnoticed. Few people paid any attention to Josef and Justinian who walked ahead of the others. A few steps behind them, Tonks and Simon seemed almost invisible. It took only a short time for Ginny to realize that she and Harry were receiving the bulk of the interest from the crowd around them. The thought was a little unnerving at first. While Harry had become famous enough to be recognized all across Europe, it seemed surprising that he'd still be worthy of such a reaction in Northern Africa while his face was buried under a hood. Moments later, she realized her mistake.

A pair of women were standing off to her left, some distance ahead. As she passed, they turned to whisper at each other, one of them staring openly and stroking her own hair. Ginny's heart stopped and she stared down. Locks of her hair were hanging down past her chin, glowing a brilliant copper in the afternoon sun. With an attempt to keep as casual of an appearance as possible, she tucked her hair back into her hood, kept her head down and walked forward, ignoring the inquisitive faces around her. They were supposed to avoid anything that made them memorable. She hadn't even thought of the fact that her hair color would make her quite a bit more interesting than some British wizard who they'd never seen before. Just as she was busy thinking up just how to properly chastise herself, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Turning quickly, she saw that Harry had come to an abrupt stop.

An old woman had stepped out from the crowd and put herself directly in Harry's path. She was wearing a long cloak, not terribly different than those purchased by Justinian, yet obviously worn with use. She was trying to say something to Harry, but neither he nor Ginny could make out any of it. Failing to get a response, the old woman tried something different, calling out in French as he tried to step around her. With surprising speed, she darted to the side, continuing a non-stop fountain of speech just as unintelligible as her first attempt.

"Pardon me," Harry said as he quickly side-stepped again, looking almost humorous in his attempt to evade a woman for whom walking alone seemed to be something of an accomplishment.

Shaking his head and looking back over his shoulder, Ginny heard him whisper: "Well, you can't blame her for trying, can you?"

"I guess not," Ginny said with a slight smile. "That was quite the show of agility by the way," she added mockingly.

Harry flashed a sarcastic smile. "Yes, well I was a Seeker once, you know. I still haven't lost all of— _Bloody Hell!_"

Ginny spun around, instinctively reaching for her wand. When she saw what had caused Harry's reaction, she could barely keep herself from laughing.

"Pretty jewels?" croaked the very same old woman. "Pretty jewels and gold for the handsome wizard?"

"No, thank you. I've got plenty," he replied with a shocked expression.

This didn't seem to bother the old woman at all. "Ah, yes, yes. Of course you do. Of course," she said with a faint cackle. "And yet, one can never have too many pretty things, can they? There's always room for more, isn't there?" she said, reaching a crooked finger toward his chest. "The possession of beauty only stirs the appetite for more."

"Not today, I'm afraid," he said politely. "I really must be going."

"Hmph," grunted the woman, shaking her head. "Despite all their gold, the wealthy rarely seem to have any time left to enjoy the reward of their _endless toiling,_" she said with a crooked smile. "Come now, a quick look couldn't hurt, could it? You never know what you might find."

Josef had noticed the exchange and was walking back toward the rest of the group with a stern expression. He stopped mere inches from Harry and spoke in a voice so low that only Harry and Ginny heard him.

"We did not come here to buy worthless trinkets from street peddlers."

"Yes, I'm aware," Harry said over his shoulder, revealing a forced smile. Ginny watched in faint amusement as Harry turned back to the woman to speak in a slow, controlled voice: "I'm sure your jewelry is very nice, but I'm not interested right now."

The woman nodded and flashed a smile containing several crooked teeth, one of them capped in gold. "Yes, yes," she lamented. "Very busy man, I am certain. Very rich, too. No need for the simple pleasures found in intricate treasures."

Harry nodded to her again and carefully stepped around her. Josef let out a disapproving grunt and began walking back to the head of the group. They began walking again and this time Ginny tried to keep her head down to avoid looking at everyone around her. She just concentrated on staying next to Harry. As they walked, Ginny saw a second set of feet walking on the other side of her. She tried to ignore them at first, but a second later, she felt something tugging at her cloak.

Ginny looked up and let out a sharp gasp. The old woman was walking beside her, tugging at her her arm and peering up at her with large, bulging eyes.

"What about you, pretty girl?" she asked, her voice filled hope. "I am certain I could find many things to make you happy."

"You again?" Harry snapped. "I told you we're not interested." He began walking a little faster, pulling Ginny with him.

The old woman matched their pace, though in a somewhat less graceful gait. "_We_?" she croaked as she reached out to poke at Harry again. "You speak for her, do you? You make her decisions? You command her?"

"No, of course not. I—"

"Of course not," interrupted the old woman, smiling brightly again. "You are very rich, very cultured, and very frugal. Of course you would never waste good gold on frivolous things for yourself, but perhaps... for her..." She waited for some response from Harry and frowned a bit when she got nothing.

"Oh, come now," she called out, "I cannot believe a handsome wizard like you has the attentions of only one witch. Why not show this one that she's special? Or at least give her something to be proud of. She hangs her head as if she were ashamed of her appearance."

Ahead of her, Tonks and Simon were slowing down. With nowhere else to go, Ginny was forced to slow down as well until she finally came to a halt. Just as Ron and Hermione walked up behind her, Justinian appeared and slipped past all of them on his way toward Valencia. When Ginny turned around again, she found the old woman standing directly in front of her, crouching down to peek under her hood.

"Oh, my," she gasped. "Why, my dear, you _are_ special." With a single, swift motion, she had pulled back Ginny's hood and quickly stepped back to stare in awe.

"Yes, I understand now," she said with wide eyes. "How could anyone find pleasure in gold and crystals when they have such a treasure as you? I am sorry, my dear, but it is far too great a tragedy to hide yourself under a hood. You should be proud. There are men who would give everything they have for someone of your beauty." She reached down to grab Ginny's hand and raised it reverently to her lips to kiss it briefly.

Looking past the woman, Ginny noticed that Josef had been silently watching the exchange with a stony expression. When the old woman released her hand, he frowned and let out a tense sigh. "Harker," he hissed, "this has gone far enough. End it."

"What am I supposed to do?" Harry whispered back, still loud enough for everyone to hear. "Do you want me to hex her?" Josef shot a sharp glare at him but Harry just stared back. "Why don't _you_ fix it?"

If the old woman had heard them, she didn't seem to care. She was far too busy gazing at Ginny, appraising her like an painter searching for the very best frame for a masterpiece. Behind her, Harry and Josef had begun arguing quietly, leaving Ginny wondering just what she was supposed to do.

The woman shuffled closer. "Your hair, it is exquisite," she said, stroking one of the crimson locks which curled down below her chin. "And your skin," she croaked as she traced a finger along Ginny's jaw. "So pale. Very rare in these parts. Very rare. Soft features but with a refined elegance. You are truly radiant, yet I feel there is something missing," she said, holding her finger to her lips. "Jewelry is the answer, I am certain."

"Oh, that's quite alright, I've never really been one to wear much—"

"Oh, none of that," the woman said, cutting her off. "The world has not changed so much that ladies no longer love wearing jewelry. The question is: Just what sort?" she said with a crooked smile. She tugged gently at Ginny's arms, lifting her hands and inspecting her fingers.

"Hmm... feminine to be sure. Not the delicate structure of a pampered duchess, but a woman of spirit who has known hardship and risen above it. A fine ruby would look stunning, and yet, it seems like a waste of time. It seems foolish to even attempt to draw attention to anything but your face and amazing eyes. Maybe a— Wait! That's it!" she exclaimed, holding her hands over her mouth. "Of course I didn't think of it earlier... that rather unfortunate choice of cloak," she rambled. "A tiara would be too pretentious, but... Oh yes, that might be quite nice. Let me see—"

Her hands darted forward and deftly untied Ginny's cloak in a second. By the time she realized what was happening, the woman had already undone the very top button of her robes. "I have just the thing. It's back at my shop, but it is perfect for you," she said as he tugged at the fabric, exposing Ginny's throat and collarbone. She struggled, trying to stop the old woman, but she was determined now. "It's very old, but there's nothing like it. It is a—" The woman suddenly froze, staring at Ginny's chest. "—a pendant."

Reaching out with gnarled fingers, she picked up the chain she found hanging from Ginny's neck and held it out in front of her to get a better look at it. "What is this?" she asked, staring at the large talisman set with the completely black, circular stone that Justinian had given her.

"What is this repulsive thing? Why do you wear this— this_insult_, this utterly unworthy rubbish?"

Ginny didn't know just what to say. She knew Justinian wasn't far behind her and everyone else was watching her now. "I, er— It's just—" she stammered.

"What were you thinking, child?" the woman asked in a piteous tone. "What could make you wear this... this _rock_ about your neck like some commoner? You must know you are better than this." She shook her head in disgust. "Take it off, girl!" she snapped. "Come with me to my shop. We will find something to bring out the color in your eyes. Perhaps a diamond ringed in—"

Ginny had been trying to back away, but it was too late. The woman was no longer looking at the talisman, but the place where it had been hanging. Her mouth hung open in shock and her eyes blinked as though she could not believe what she was seeing.

"What— What is the meaning of this?" she whispered, extending a single, shaking hand toward Ginny's chest. Her hand pushed aside the fabric of Ginny's robes and pressed against the hard dragonhide vest Harry had given her that autumn. Ginny knew it was too late. Dragging her eyes over to them, she found Harry and Josef looking just as surprised as the old woman.

"How did— How could you do this?" she asked hoarsely. Her lips pulled back into a scowl as she took another look at the stiff, coarsely sewn hide. "To possess such beauty and mar it in such ways, it is... criminal. What could posses a woman to do such things? What purpose could it have? Why—"

"That's enough," Josef interrupted, quickly stepping in front of the woman. "We've been more than patient with you. It is time for you to leave. We have very important business to attend to."

"Do you?" she replied, casting a sidelong glance at Josef. "And what business might that be?"

"That is none of your concern."

She nodded slowly. "Perhaps not, perhaps not, but I must confess to having some curiosity about what business ten wealthy British witches and wizards might possibly have in the outcast camps. They are filled with nothing but thieves and bandits and beyond them there is nothing but wasteland."

Upon hearing this, Josef's shoulders sagged a little and he and Harry shared disgusted looks. Together, they turned toward Justinian, but he merely shrugged.

"Ha! I thought so," the old woman cackled. "You were only in a hurry to get away from me. There is no urgent business. You don't even know where you are going!"

Josef looked like he was about to draw his wand on her, but Harry quickly stepped in front of him. "You're right," he said in a calm voice. "We don't have any pressing appointment and we don't really know where we're going. We're just here on a bit of sightseeing. Perhaps you could help us find our way about." Josef tried to speak up, but Harry silenced him quickly.

A bright smile broke across the woman's face. "Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Could have saved quite a bit of trouble. Come along with me to my shop. I should have some parchment there. I'll make you a fine map of the city. There isn't much left, as you can tell. This market is the only reason anyone still comes here. They say its quite old, but it is hardly the place for visitors. No, there are much better places. Come along!"

The woman started hobbling off, but Harry stood where he was. "There's no need for that," he told her. "We might not be in a hurry, but we don't have much time either. The holidays are nearly over, you know," he said with a charming smile. "We have particular interest in really old things. What would be the oldest thing around here?"

"Me, of course," she said with a conspiratorial grin, before breaking out into hoarse laughter. "Certainly feels that way some days. What I wouldn't give to be your age again," she continued, winking at Ginny. She reached out to pat Harry's shoulder. "You like ancient things, eh? Well, you are in luck. I rarely have any really old jewelry, but I do have quite the collection of old amulets and periapts. If you just follow—"

"We're actually more interested in buildings," Harry interrupted before she began to drag him off to whichever rickety booth she called her shop.

The woman scowled at Harry. "Is that it?" she said with tight lips. "You flaunt your wealth, luring me into believing that you want to buy something and then trick me into being your free guide?" She stepped closer to Harry and jabbed a wrinkled finger into his chest. "How dare you. How dare you corrupt _her_. She is a creature of grace who deserves better than you."

Harry tried to say something, but the old woman turned away and began ambling toward Ginny. "You see what he is truly like now? He would take advantage of an old woman," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a frail, quavering tone, "he will take advantage of you, too —if he hasn't already." She faltered and began to fall, but when no one rushed to catch her, she seemed to miraculously regain her balance.

Frowning, Harry reached into his cloak and pulled out a bag of jingling coins. "We'll buy some jewelry," he announced flatly.

The woman immediately perked up and rushed over to Ginny. "Alright then, we simply must find something better than this... trinket. I have a wonderful necklace of orange sapphires. It was made for you. I'm certain you will—"

"Not for her," Harry said sharply, "for him." He tossed the bag to Ron, who nearly dropped it. "And we'll buy it right here, from whatever you're carrying with you. We don't have time to go to your shop." The old woman frowned, then gave a quick nod.

"Why me?" Ron asked, regarding her with a mixture of confusion and discomfort.

The woman didn't seem any more excited about this arrangement than Ron did. She reluctantly left Ginny and inspected Ron slowly. "A relative, no doubt, but it seems she has received the better share." Ron tried to argue, but the woman held up her hand for silence. "I have no jewelry for this one," she said with distaste, "—but for his companion, perhaps," she added quickly.

"What is the oldest building in the area?" Harry asked. As he spoke, Ginny saw him cast a disapproving glance at the talisman and dragonhide vest. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she quickly buttoned her robes, then pulled up her hood and tied her cloak again.

"There are quite a few," the old woman explained, now staring at Hermione. "They are all in disrepair. The sand makes for better sightseeing. Well, a tiara will be next to impossible. I suppose a simple pendant or even... Hmm. Interesting."

Harry ignored the woman's musings on jewelry. "We don't care how boring it is. Which is the very oldest?"

"The very oldest would be the guard house at the far end of the market," she said impatiently. As she spoke, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. "I have the perfect thing," she whispered to Hermione. She carefully opened the box, looked inside, and frowned. Flipping it around, she repeated the action with the same result. She flipped it onto its side, she pulled out her wand and tapped it gently against the box. This time, the box unfolded into four sections, each filled with sparkling jewels and precious metals.

"Here we are!" she exclaimed, pulling a short golden bracelet from the heap. She held it up to the sun briefly, letting the light sparkle through a dozen or more emeralds woven into the gold. She reached out for Hermione, grabbing her left wrist and pulling it toward her.

Hermione let out a piercing shriek and pulled her arm away immediately. The woman let go immediately and simply stood where she was, petrified and shocked at the response. Beside Hermione, Ron was livid. He had pulled his wand from his cloak but hadn't raised it.

"I apologize," the woman said slowly. "I meant to harm or offense. The bracelet... was obviously a bad idea. Take this instead," she said, reaching into the box and pulling out a large indigo stone hanging from a silver chain. "I think you'll find it more useful, as well." Ron took the necklace slowly and the old woman quickly backed away.

Quite a few people standing or walking nearby were now watching them with renewed interest. Harry quickly took the bag of gold from Ron and emptied half of it into the woman's hands. "Point me to the guard house," he said firmly. The woman, who still looked a little shaken, turned to point past Ginny to a cluster of crumbling stone buildings across the market.

"The guards may not be friendly to visitors," she said, staring down at the gold in her hands, "but I am sure someone of your stature could be persuade them to be more hospitable."

"Thank you for your assistance," Harry said, then motioned for all of them to leave quickly.

* * *

Crossing the market generated no less attention than their earlier arrival, but neither Harry nor Josef seemed to care at all. They had spoken quickly with the others and the group no longer walked about like an aimless pack of wealthy tourists. Josef was in the lead, with Justinian trailing not far behind. Tonks and Simon were now walking in the very back, with Lupin while Valencia was twenty feet or more away, weaving her way through the crowd and shadowing the group. 

This left Ginny walking with Harry, Ron and Hermione at the very center of the group. Much to Ginny's relief, Harry had not tried to scold her for either wearing the vest or concealing that fact from him. He had simply asked her if there was any specific reason why she had decided to wear it. After a moment of consideration, she simply said that it had seemed like a good idea and she didn't want to alarm the others. He accepted this with a simple nod.

Apparently satisfied that the situation had been handled, he turned his attention to Hermione. She was even less talkative than Ginny had been. Most of his concern was due to her reaction to the woman grabbing her arm, and this seemed to be the last thing she wanted to talk about. The more he asked her about it, the more evasive she became.

"I'm fine, Harry," she finally said. "Nothing happened. It didn't even hurt, I just... wasn't expecting it. She grabbed my wrist and... I just reacted. It's nothing, alright?" Ginny could tell that Harry wasn't totally convinced, but they were out of time. They had reached their destination.

The guard house was a wide building made of large stone blocks. It was flanked by a a short tower on one side and a pile of rubble and masonry on the other. Ginny was surprised to see that despite its name, there didn't seem to be any guards around at all. She wasn't the only one.

Josef had stopped in front of the arched doorway and signaled for the others to stop. "There are a hundred or more wizards in the market," he said in a low voice as he peered through doorway. "How many guards do you think they would have on duty right now?"

"It's hard to say without knowing how many other guard houses there are," Simon replied, looking around at the area. "Assuming this isn't the only one... in a place like this, I would guess four. I suppose it could be as many as eight and certainly no fewer than two at all times."

"I see six chairs at the table," Josef announced. "Three of them are out of place. I'd guess there were at least that many guards, but they've all left."

"Perhaps not. Look at the ground," whispered Justinian. Ginny leaned to the side to see where he was pointing. "There are dozens of tracks here, but they're all headed _in_."

"It's not all that big. Where did they all go?" Ron asked.

"I couldn't even guess," Tonks answered heavily, "but I think I know where they came from. Take a look at all the nearby shops."

Ginny slowly turned around. She didn't know how they had missed it earlier. They all must have been too focused on getting to the guard house. There were a number of shops and wooden stalls nearby, but they were all empty. A small number of witches and wizards were wandering about, moving from one shop to the next, appearing to be more annoyed than worried by the lack of merchants.

"Well, it looks like we found the right place," Harry announced. Before Ginny had even managed to turn around, Harry was already stepping through the doorway with his wand at his side.

Ginny tried to follow him, but Josef insisted on entering before her. Simon and Tonks insisted on being next. By the time Ginny finally made it into the room, Harry and Josef had already given up looking for any sign of where everyone had gone and were talking quietly in one of the corners and looking around the cramped interior as if searching for something.

As Ginny stepped into the center of the room, Harry's eyes locked onto her. Suddenly, he and Josef were no longer talking. Without taking his eyes off her, Harry began walking slowly and deliberately toward her.

"Is there anything you wish to share?" he asked quietly. When Ginny responded only with a questioning look, he let out a long sigh. "You knew it was going to come here. That's why you went back for the vest. What else do you know? Do you know where the Veil is? Do you know where the thing responsible for all this is?"

"No, Harry. I don't know, I swear. I just—"

"You have to know something," Harry told her, his voice filled with frustration. "Whatever it is that you're trying to hide, it's not helping."

"I'm not trying—"

"This might be our best chance, Ginny. If we can't stop it, sooner or later it's going to come to London. I know there are things you're not telling me, but we need every—"

"Harry!" Valencia snapped. "I think you're badgering the wrong witch." She gestured toward the back wall of the room. Hermione was standing there, staring at a old chest sitting in the corner. Her face was blank, but she was clutching at her left arm.

Josef was the first to reach her, but he wasn't interested in her. His wand was pointed at the trunk, he tried both opening and unlocking charms, but the chest remained firmly shut. Just before he resorted to one of the more destructive charms, Justinian stepped forward and suggested a different tactic. With a firm grip on the lid, he pulled up. Much to the surprise of Josef and everyone else, the trunk opened smoothly, without even the faintest creak.

"Stairs," Josef called out. "There are stairs leading underground."

Everything began happening quickly. Tonks and Simon closed and locked the door to the guard house while everyone else lined up to step into the trunk. Ginny felt like she was going to be sick. There was no doubt where the stairs would lead and she knew what was waiting for them there. Again, she tried to slip to the front of the line. She had to stay with Harry. She was the only one who could protect him.

Yet again, she was pushed away and forced to watch helplessly as Josef and Harry descended into the chest first. The Aurors were next, then Justinian and Lupin. Ginny jumped in next, earning her a suspicious look from Valencia.

The stairs were steep but ended only a short way down in a dark, surprisingly cool cellar. Small barrels and crates filled a collection of shelves set up around the large room. They found lamps on the walls and quickly lit them, filling the room with a warm flickering light.

Looking horribly out of place, a section of the far wall of the cellar had been ripped down, creating a pile of broken rock and revealing a dark, empty passage which continued onward.

Justinian bent down to look at the rubble. "It looks like someone recently found a new passage. This cellar is obviously cleaned regularly. They wouldn't have left a mess like this."

Through the opening, they found another set of stairs. There was no other path leading from the cellar so there was no need for discussion on just what to do. The stairs were less steep than the previous set, but quite a bit longer. The light from the cellar was far behind her and she could see from the glow of wands ahead of her that Harry and Josef still had not reached the bottom. By the time they finally did reach the very bottom, Ginny's legs were weak and shaky. Despite Josef's complaints, Harry and Lupin allowed everyone to rest a moment.

When they began moving again a minute later, Ginny finally managed to slip to the front of the group by Harry's side. This time, neither he nor Josef made any attempt to hold her back. Quite a few of them had lit their wands now. Ginny opted not to but still kept it in her hand, ready to react if anything would happen.

The tunnel they found themselves in was not terribly wide, yet Ginny couldn't see a ceiling above her. They had been walking for quite some time and had not encountered any noticeable change in their direction. There were no corners, no stairs or inclines, no doorways, and not a single torch to help light the way. After many minutes of the same monotonous journey, she almost failed to notice the first subtle change.

With no warning whatsoever, the walls of the tunnel had simply disappeared. They had entered an enormous cavern whose walls and ceiling were far beyond their vision. Ginny felt a terrifying anxiety at the emptiness of it. Harry pressed them forward, trying to keep as straight as possible. When they reached the far side of the huge hall, they found a large arched doorway, flanked by a pair of twisted columns. Before they could pass under the arch, a dull thud echoed through the emptiness on the other side. The group froze and Ginny felt her heart pounding in her chest.

"What was that?" Ron asked. "Some sort of explosion or—"

"It wasn't an explosion," Josef replied quickly. "The pitch was wrong. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a door slamming or maybe something heavy dropping to the floor."

A second sound split the darkness, a sharp, piercing scream that sounded as likely to come from an animal as any person. It lasted for a few seconds at most, then changed abruptly to a mournful wail.

Ginny was running before the echoes had died away. She heard Harry and the others shouting for her to stop, but it didn't matter. The only thing she could hear was the cloaked wizard's threat: _If he brings the Jewel, I will let him live. If not, I will teach him a new form of pain._ There was only one explanation for the scream she'd heard. The cloaked wizard was there, just as he said he'd be. She had to find him before Harry did. She didn't want to think of what might happen if she didn't.

She ran blindly into the black corridor. There was no time to light a wand. Every inch of the path up to that point had been absolutely straight and she hoped that pattern would continue. Behind her, she heard the other running after her. She knew she couldn't outrun them. Justinian had already proved that. Still, she seemed to have surprised all of them. Perhaps it would give her enough of a lead to accomplish her goal.

Ahead of her, she spotted some sort of glowing light. It didn't seem to have any shape or source. Instead, it just seemed to sort of block off the entire corridor. Before she could work out just what it was, the floor fell away beneath her. She managed to stumble forward for a few steps, giving her just enough time to see that the light she had seen was actually reflecting off the ceiling of the corridor as dove deeper into the earth. Visible at the bottom of the decline was a chamber filled with flickering yellow light. In her shock at seeing this, she finally lost her balance and felt herself tumble forward. The first stab of pain came from her shoulder as it slammed into the rough surface of the wall. The impact spun her around, sending her falling backward. She felt sharp pains lancing through her side and down her leg as all her weight drove her hip into stone floor. Unable to do anything through the pain, her legs flipped over her and she tumbled the corridor until she came to an abrupt stop at the entrance to a small chamber.

She ignored the pain flooding her body and pushed herself onto her hands and knees. She had to move. She had to stand. If it was there she had to face it before Harry arrived. Forcing herself to look up, she found the room almost painfully bright. It was circular, just like the one in Romania, and ringed with a half dozen torches. An arch set with a dark door was set into the far wall, but between it and her were a pair of blurry figures. One was lying face down on the floor while the other stood over it. She blinked her eyes and when the scene suddenly came into focus she felt herself break out into a cold sweat.

It was not a wizard who stood in the center of the chamber but a witch in a white nightgown with fiery red hair and light freckles spread across her nose and cheeks. Ginny gasped for breath, seeing her own face staring back at her with a violent hatred. Abandoning whatever plan she might have had, she pushed herself back against the wall and stared in horror at the scene in front of her.

The witch who was standing hadn't moved toward her, but the murderous expression on her face didn't give Ginny much hope for the future. Her right arm was covered in blood from her elbow down to her hand, which appeared to be holding some sort of jagged shard of stone. The blood obviously came from the other figure lying at her feet and as Ginny looked at the unlucky victim and the pool of blood spreading around them, she felt a second wave of nausea hit her. She, too, had red hair with pale, freckled skin, and, just like her attacker, she still clutched a blood-soaked sliver of stone.

She felt her stomach flip over and she would have been sick if Harry hadn't burst into the chamber at just that moment. Josef and Ron were right behind him, all of them holding their wands out, ready to attack immediately. Like Ginny, however, they were unprepared for what they saw. Ron went deathly pale and stumbled a bit while Josef just froze. Only Harry seemed to keep his composure, though Ginny could see the memory of pain in his eyes.

"What's happening here?" Harry shouted as the others filed into the chamber behind him.

"_Consequences,_" the witch snarled, speaking with a version of Ginny's own voice that was so twisted by hatred and malice that she barely recognized it. The witch turned her piercing gaze down on Ginny, totally ignoring the number of wands pointed at her.

"You dare continue to defy him?" she spat. "Do you presume to test him, to prove his resolve or the truth of what he has said to you? The insolence!" she cried, stepping over the bloodied body beneath her and brandishing her makeshift dagger. "You, the base mistress of deceit and treachery, question him?"

Though it took every ounce of her will, Ginny pushed herself back to her feet. There was still danger, and she wouldn't let herself cower on the floor while some deranged copy of herself attacked her friends. Bracing herself against the wall, she raised her wand and tried to keep her arm as steady as she could. A malevolent smile spread across the witch's face and her eyes flickered an emerald green.

"Enough!" Harry shouted. He strode forward to stand between the two of them, but before he could cross the chamber, the witch paused and raised her left arm toward him, her hand closed in a tight fist.

"This is no concern of yours, _Harry_," she sneered. Her hand opened quickly and Harry was thrown backwards against the wall. Almost immediately, the witch had turned her attention back to Ginny, completely ignoring all threatening gestures attempted by the others.

"I have seen many things, yet there is so much I cannot understand," she said, taking another casual step toward Ginny. "After all that he has done for you, all that he has suffered and all that he has offered, you still blatantly deny every request, every small chance to atone for your crimes."

"I don't know what—"

"_You were told to bring the Jewel!_" the witch roared with sudden fury. "You were given this one task to prove that you were not yet beyond redemption, and yet again you have chosen pointless defiance."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a jewel," Ginny insisted. With her free hand, she fumbled under the collar of her robes, searching for the chain holding the talisman Justinian had given her. "All I've got is this. It's the—"

"I know what it is," the witch snapped. "Did you think he wouldn't? Did you think he wouldn't know how worthless it would be to him? Do you think it _amused_ him to see it instead of the Jewel? You should consider yourself lucky he didn't strangle you with it." She paused again to stare into Ginny's eyes. "You were told to bring the Jewel. You must learn that there are consequences to your actions."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny repeated. "I can't give you what I don't have." She tried to act strong and defiant, but she couldn't stop her hand from trembling.

"Oh, I believe you," the witch replied softly. Brandishing the stone spike, she took another step toward Ginny and spoke in a slow, spiteful tone: "You _will_ learn. You _must_ learn. Perhaps you have been allowed too much pride. Your life is not mine to take, but perhaps you would show a little more respect if you had a little less beauty."

As she stepped toward Ginny, her body shook and with her next step she stumbled to the ground and let out an agonized scream. As she fell, she dropped her weapon and twisted to reach for her leg, allowing Ginny to see the stone spike which had been embedded into it.

The other witch was just behind her, smiling with bloodstained teeth as she grabbed the knife and dug it deeper into the other's leg, using it as a handle to drag her away from Ginny while howling in pain. Ginny didn't know just what to do. She simply stood where she was, wand still trembling in her hand as the witch she'd assumed to be dead wrenched the spike out of the other witch's leg and drove it deep into her ribs.

This time the scream was quite a bit less piercing. The sound trailed off into a soft gurgle as the witch on the unfortunate end of the spike tried in vain to push the other one off her. She struggled against the weight of her attacker, but it seemed as if it were already too late. Her breathing was shallow and quick with occasional coughs that sent mouthfuls of blood dripping onto the stone floor. Her attempts became weaker until it seemed she could barely lift her own arms. The other witch quickly took advantage of this and pinned her arms to the floor with one hand as the other drew out the spike and positioned it at her neck.

Ginny felt her insides tighten almost painfully and she quickly closed her eyes and turned away. The sound itself was almost enough to make her sick. She felt the world sway and she fell to her knees, again using the wall for support. She didn't want to be there anymore. She wanted to forget what she'd seen, but she heard a quiet, rasping voice calling out to her:

"You... you were told... to bring the Jewel."

Ginny's eyes opened and she stared at the remaining witch with revulsion. Like the other one, she had Ginny's face and voice, with eyes flickering green with malice. There was a deep cut running along her cheek and blood seemed to be dripping down from some unseen wound on her chest.

"You cannot fight him," she said, blood dripping from her lips. "You should not fight him. He offers so much, yet you still fight."

Ginny could see that, while this witch might have succeeded in killing the other, she had not won. Her injuries were equally lethal. Ginny looked down into her eyes and suddenly understood. They were no different than Mira. Neither of them would live. In all ways that mattered, they were already dead.

"Who is _he_?" Ginny asked. "There must be a way to stop him."

"You cannot— cannot stop him," the witch replied as she collapsed onto the stone floor next to her victim. "Do not... defy... After all he's given—"

"He's given me nothing. What has he given you?"

"He has given me everything," she whispered, "and he has taken everything away, even death." She stared up at Ginny, using the last of her strength to keep her head up. "It never ends," she said in barely audible tones. "So much hate, so much... How? How could you... how could you do this?"

The green flame in her eyes faded and finally disappeared, leaving her eyes a disturbingly pale blue color. Her head finally dropped, she let out one last breath and then didn't move again.

"Ginny?" Harry called out softly. "Ginny, is she—" Ginny nodded quickly before he could finish his question. Harry whispered something to the others and they all rushed forward. Ron and Hermione were at her side almost immediately while the others simply gathered around. Once they were all certain that she was alright, their attention turned to the two witches on the floor.

"What... are they?" Ron asked with a disgusted look. "Are they _real_? Or is it Polyjuice Potion or—"

"I have no doubt they are real," commented Josef. "I would guess they are the guards we failed to find in the guard room, though I doubt it was done with anything so simple as Polyjuice Potion." Josef stepped a little closer to peer at the closest body. "I can't see any amulets or other magical devices. It may be simple transfiguration."

"There's nothing simple about it," Tonks commented, also trying to look at them without getting too close. "Even I couldn't make myself look that much like her. No wizard could transfigure two guards this accurately without weeks of work."

Josef responded flatly: "I never said this was done by any normal wizard."

Of all of them, only Valencia seemed undaunted by the pool of blood they were lying in. Pulling up her cloak to keep it from being stained, she knelt down and looked into the eyes of the one who had died last. After a minute or more, she reached out to pick up one of their stone daggers.

"Don't touch that!" barked Harry.

Valencia flashed a disgusted expression. "What's the matter, Potter?" she replied with a sneer. "Afraid you'll get tossed against the wall again?"

Harry replied with nothing more than a stony glare, leaving Josef to voice everyone else's fears: "I think all of us —and Ginny more than the rest— would feel a lot better if we didn't have to face another one of them."

Valencia raised an eyebrow. "Well, seeing as they are both dead now, I thought you would have encouraged the idea." She turned back to the two witches inspecting the spike nearest to her. Pulling out her wand, she ran it along the hem of her cloak, slicing off a long section of pale cloth. Wrapping it around her gloved hand, she reached out and pulled the shard of stone from the dead witch's hand.

A moment of silence passed as she stared at it, then she stood up and walked over to one of the torches. After holding it up to the light and rubbing it a little with the cloth, her shoulders dropped a little and she let out a disappointed sigh.

"I'm afraid you won't like this, Harry," she announced. "This looks like a small piece of some carved shape. I can't be absolutely certain, but there are a set of ridges on it right here," she said, pointing at it with her free hand. "They look rather like the ridges you might expect on a column or pillar."

Ginny turned just in time to see Harry draw his wand and march off toward the door. Josef was right behind him and everyone else was eager to catch up. Ginny was still recovering from the shock of all of it and found herself at the very back of the group as Harry and Josef pushed the doors open.

The sound of tortured screams burst through the door before anyone even had a chance to enter. As though following silent orders, the entire group rushed into the chamber with their wands drawn. Ginny was the very last to enter and she barely got through the arched doorway before she was stopped short behind Ron and Hermione.

From her position, she couldn't see all that much of the chamber. Like the smaller room outside, it was ringed in flickering torches. A tall domed ceiling stretched over them, and though she couldn't see anything more than the very edges of the chamber, she got the impression that it was sunken in the center like the one in Romania.

That seemed to be the source of the screaming, though now that she was actually inside the chamber, it became clear that it was more than just one or two witches. There were dozens of screams. Sensing something out of place in everyone's behavior, she attempted to slip past Ron to get a better view. The moment she touched him, he spun around and held out his arms, barring her path.

Beside him, Hermione was staring down into the center of the chamber with an ashen face and a horrified, blank look in her eyes. Fear shot through her and Ginny struggled against Ron, trying to see what had silenced everyone else.

"—No, Ginny—" he choked, as she finally managed to duck under his arms and evade his attempt to pull her back.

She could barely believe what she was seeing. It couldn't be real. It had to be some horrible nightmare or another fantasy concocted by the cloaked wizard in her nightmares. Scattered around the chamber were the bloody corpses of a dozen witches in white nightgowns displaying a variety of fatal injuries, most of them rather gruesome. Just as many were still alive, leaping and crawling over the dead to strike at those who still walked. They were all the same. They all looked just like her.

Her legs felt weak and the room swam around her. Only half aware of her own thoughts, she felt her body go numb as she watched a perfect copy of herself run down another, knocking it to the ground and stabbing viciously at its spine.

A voice floated out of the fog: "Get her out!" it commanded. "Get her out of here, now!" It was Harry's voice. She tried to make herself go toward the sound of it, but she found herself surrounded by figures in light clothes who clutched at her, fighting her attempts to push them away.

"Close the door!" Harry shouted, though his voice was less distinct now. "Don't let any of them out!" There was more shouting, but Ginny wasn't paying attention. All she cared about was the fact that Harry's voice was getting farther away.

"Keep her safe!" he cried. "Don't let her do anything!"

His voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a pit. She fought back harder. She had to find Harry. She had to protect him. He didn't know what she'd done. It was her fault. He was in danger and she should have told him. She tried to pull herself free again, but even more hands reached out to restrain her. She let out a scream of fear and pain. A firm hand clapped itself over her mouth and another familiar voice drifted into her ears.

"Relax, Ginny," Lupin whispered harshly. "We'll protect you, but you have to stop fighting."

Her momentary relief that she was surrounded by her friends gave them the chance they needed. She felt herself hauled up off the ground and quickly carried back toward the door. Before she had a chance to protest, she found herself back on the stone floor outside the doors watching the blurry shapes of Tonks and Simon pulling the doors shut and casting a quick charm, locking Harry and Josef on the other side.

Panic seized her again and she lunged for the door, only to have Ron and Lupin pull her back with her own arms. "You have to trust Harry and Josef," he said, failing to hide the concern in his own voice. "This is what they wanted. They know what they're doing."

"He's in danger," Ginny croaked. "He doesn't— He—"

"Harry is a very powerful wizard," Lupin assured her. "It's unfortunate that he's accustomed to this sort of danger. There's nothing you can do to help him. I think if you were on the other side, our situation would be quite a bit worse. All we can do now is sit and wait."

And so Ginny sat and waited. In the complete silence of the antechamber, she was able to just barely make out the high-pitched echoes of wailing screams from the other side of the door. Every so often, she thought she could make out a dull thud, though it was impossible to be sure. The only thing she could be certain about was the fact that the sounds from the chamber were slowly diminishing. After a minute of utter silence, Ginny felt herself jump as the heavy door trembled.

"The locking charm," Simon announced as a warning. He aimed his wand at the doors; Lupin and Ron did the same.

The door opened steadily and very slowly. Josef stood in the doorway for a moment, letting everyone see that it was him and not one of Ginny's copies. His hands and robes were smeared with quite a bit of blood and it was difficult to know how much of it might be his own. He didn't appear to be in pain, but he didn't seem to be doing well either. His gaze was vacant and his expression blank. As he stepped through the door, Ginny could see the room behind him. It was now dim and silent, giving it an almost somber appearance. There were no signs of any of the witches they had all seen minutes earlier.

Harry stepped out a moment later, looking noticeably worse than Josef. He pulled the door closed as he walked through it, then walked away and dropped to his knees, saying nothing and simply staring down at the stone floor.

"Lock the doors," Josef said in a tired voice. "Make the charm as strong as you like."

"What happened?" Ginny asked shakily. "Are you both alright?"

Josef hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "We'll be fine, I expect. Miss Granger," he called out wearily, "you brought healing potions, yes?" As soon as she started to reply, he held out his hand to her. "Quickly, we need something for pain —a potion— the strongest you've got that won't leave us unconscious."

"Are you hurt?" Ginny asked. "Did you—"

"We'll be fine once we get that potion," interrupted Josef.

Hermione quickly reached into the bag they had brought and rummaged around for a moment. "Er, I think this is the best we have, though perhaps with some Pepper-Up—"

"That one will do fine," Josef said striding across the room and snatching it from her hand. He quickly uncorked the bottle, tossing the stopper over his shoulder. After taking a quick sniff, he gave a grim frown at the potion. "Yes, this should be perfect," he said. Then, to everyone's surprise, he tipped the bottle over, pouring the contents onto the floor.

"Stay back," he snapped as Hermione rushed forward to stop him. "I am in no mood for foolish arguments or pointless complaints." When half the bottle had been emptied, he tipped the bottle up and reached into his robes, retrieving a small flask Ginny had seen earlier.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione cried. "That is a complex potion. It takes weeks to prepare. You can't just add Firewhisky to it and hope that it won't kill you. Are you insane?"

"Not yet," he replied as he poured the contents of the flask into the bottle and began shaking it vigorously. "Some say there are two forms of insanity. One is a result of the inability to think clearly, the other is caused by thinking all too clearly. At the moment, I find that I could do with a bit less clarity in my life."

He put the bottle to his lips and tipped it back. After a few gulps he stopped and gazed at the remaining liquid with unfocused eyes. He blinked a few times then began looking around the room drunkenly. Finding Ginny, he walked slowly toward her and had her take the bottle from him.

"Have him... have Harry drink the rest," he said lazily. "It will... help."

When she tried approaching Harry, his head jerked up quickly and he recoiled from her. Slowly, he relaxed and allowed Ginny to give him the bottle. Ginny tried to explain what it was, but he didn't wait to hear it. He quickly drained the contents and let the empty bottle fall to the floor. His eyes glazed over and he stared up at her as if asking forgiveness.

Ginny felt cold dread spreading up her spine. She stood up and walked over toward Josef who still looked somewhat dazed but was alert enough to talk to. "What happened in there?" she asked him. "What did you do?"

He gazed down at her with a haunted look. "They were just ordinary witches and wizards. The one... the wizard from the Veil brought them here, turned them into _those_," he said, raising an arm lazily to point at the two witches still sprawled across the bloodstained floor. "He took their lives but left them there as punishment. We gave them what _he_ wouldn't."

"You mean you—" Tonks gasped, "—and now you've locked them in a dungeon. They have families. You can't just leave them—"

"Their families will be much happier thinking they simply disappeared one day," Josef replied slowly. "Nothing in that chamber will comfort them. There is nothing left in there but hatred and pain. The Veil was destroyed well before we got here. It looks as if the torches have been burning for an hour or more. The wizard who did it had probably left before we arrived."

This caught Ginny's attention. "What?" she shouted a little louder than she had wanted. "That can't be. No. No, it had to be just after we found the entrance. He couldn't have known—" Ginny stopped herself suddenly, but it was too late. Everyone was staring at her, even Harry.

"He couldn't have known that you didn't have the Jewel," Harry said, finishing the sentence she couldn't. "You knew Carthage would be next because he told you to bring this Jewel here, didn't he?

Ginny felt suddenly very exposed and horribly guilty. "He said if I brought it, he would let you live, and if I didn't, he would find a way to hurt you." Looking into Harry's eyes, she knew now that everything she had been told had come true. It was her fault. She should have found a way to keep Harry away from Carthage. She had given up too quickly. "He assumed I knew what it was, but I don't," she said with a faint sob.

"If only we'd know about this before we came here," Harry said flatly. "Perhaps a little research could have helped." There was no accusation in his voice, though this might have been the result of the general dulling of his responses caused by the potion Josef had given him. Instead, he seemed simply contemplative. "I think that is where our answers are. It wants this Jewel. We'll need to find it."

"This is a topic for some other location," interrupted Valencia. "We need to leave before someone comes looking for the guards."

No one else objected to the suggestion and Ginny was just happy to be able to do anything to put the chamber and everything that had happened there behind her. As Ron helped Harry to his feet and made sure he would be okay to walk, Hermione tore a few strips of cloth from her cloak just as Valencia had. Ripping it into two pieces she used her wand to enlarge them and drape them over the two dead witches.

They made their way back through the long, straight corridor with quite a bit more speed than they had on their way to the chamber. Justinian and Valencia led the way this time, leaving the others to guide Harry and Josef. Ginny paid little attention during their journey back to the guard house. She mostly followed the others blindly, her mind wandering between feelings of intense guilt and disturbing confusion over why the cloaked wizard had spoken to her.

It simply didn't make sense. He had spoken to her as if he was certain that she knew what this Jewel was. He told her that he would would for them at Carthage and that she was supposed to bring the Jewel, but he hadn't even been there. It seemed that he had destroyed the Veil and left before they even arrived. Had it all just been a trick to get them to Carthage? If so, what was the purpose? Her eyes glanced over at Harry. He'd been through an ordeal Ginny didn't really want to think about, but none of it had seemed all that dangerous.

As they stepped back through the tumbled wall, the group paused a bit as Tonks and Simon continued ahead to check out the guard house. They returned quickly and ushered them up through the chest and into the small room. It was completely empty, but Ginny was starting to feel slightly uneasy. Something felt wrong. The whole area was too quiet. The others agreed and decided they should get back to the inn as quickly as possible. There was nothing else for them to do.

Their concerns were realized as they stepped out into the market area. When they had first seen it, witches and wizards had been strolling about all across the open area, but now they seemed to be clustered in one small area which, as Justinian pointed out to them, was all too close to the direction they needed to go. Still, there was nothing to be done about it, so they simply pulled up their hoods and hoped their disguises would work as well as they had earlier.

As they neared the crowd, it became obvious that there was very little buying or selling going on within it. Everyone seemed to be milling about with serious looks on their faces, trying to get a better look at whatever was in the center. Occasionally, a witch or wizard could be seen hurrying away with a frightened look on their face.

"Perhaps we should stop and see what has happened," suggested Josef groggily. "I'm afraid this might not be a coincidence."

They changed course gradually and as they reached the edge of the crowd, the people reluctantly allowed them to pass without too much effort. Being the shortest in the group, there was nothing she could see other than dozens of wizards pressing around them, so she simply tucked her hair back into her hood, kept her head down and followed Valencia.

Only moments after entering the crowd, Ginny saw Valencia stop abruptly and looked up to see wizards jostling through the crowd toward her. She reached out to Harry, grabbing his arm so she wouldn't be separated from him. Josef appeared suddenly at her side and pulled Harry toward him.

"I think you'll want to see this," he said gravely.

Ginny let herself be pulled along. The crowd was more aggressive, but Harry and Josef managed to push their way through, opening a path for the others. They broke through the densest part of the crowd and Ginny found herself standing a sort of empty space that had been made around one of the shops which lined the marketplace. Looking down, Ginny felt her heart begin to pound painfully in her chest.

An old woman was lying on the ground, and Ginny instantly recognized her as the the very same woman who had bothered them so thoroughly before they found the guard house. Perhaps it would have been disturbing enough if they had just found her dead, but it was obvious that she hadn't been that lucky. Her eyes were filled with the same inky black that Ginny had seen too many times before. Her skin was the color of bleached parchment with sickly grey streaks running down the left side of her face and neck. They reappeared again as her left arm left her robes. The streaks got darker and more tangled until they merged together. Her hand, which looked almost as if it had been burnt by fire, still clutched at the small bag of coins Harry had given her.

"He was here," whispered Harry. "He killed her for telling us where to go."

"I think it's worse than that," replied Josef under his breath. "From what I've caught from the crowd, _this_ was her shop."

Ginny finally looked at the small wooden stand behind the woman. Rows of vases and urns lined the shelves, some very plain and others ornately painted. Along the ground, a collection of massive ceramic vessels was arranged in small groups labeled in Arabic. There were no necklaces or rings or bracelets. Just bottles and bowls and sculptures of painted clay.

Harry looked confused. "No, it's— She said—"

Ginny's body began shaking as the realization swept over her. There was no jewelry shop. The woman had never sold jewelry. It had been _him_ all along, the cloaked wizard who brought them here. He had set it all up. He knew what they were looking for. That was why he showed them the guard house. He wanted them to find it. He had already destroyed the Veil and cursed all those people unfortunate enough to be near the guard house. He had only wanted the Jewel. He must have known somehow that none of them had the Jewel. Perhaps he could feel its presence if he got close enough.

Ginny's stomach knotted and turned. Waves of nausea struck her and she fought to keep her composure. He had gotten close to them. Ginny had let him caress her cheek, touch her arm and even kiss her hand. The thought of it was too much and she turned and ran back through the crowd, trying to get away as fast as she could.

After a moment of disorientation, she burst out into the open air again, but it didn't do anything to help her. The memories were still there: the old woman's face smiling up at her, the touch of her fingers and the feeling of her lips against the back of Ginny's hand. She heard people shouting for her, but her body wasn't listening. She ran toward a dark corner between two shops and fell to her knees, surrendering to her nausea.

Gentle hands gripped her shoulders as she tried to breath and cough at the same time. It was Tonks, with Simon, Harry and Josef right behind her.

"We need to go, Ginny," she whispered, "as quickly as we can."

Ginny let herself be lifted to her feet and nodded in agreement. She now understood exactly why Josef had made the potion and wished there could have been some left for her.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The original plans for this chapter were much more graphic than the end result, which was still fairly troubling. This is a good taste of what the "bad guy" in the story is willing to do to get things done.

I've gotten a few comments from people asking about Lucy. I'm terribly pleased that people took to her so quickly. For everyone who wants to know, you will be seeing more of Lucy before the story is finished. I'm not really the sort of person to spend all that time making a character just to toss her out the window.

Also, if anyone is eager to beta the story (free early access to the next chapters), feel free to email me.


	8. The Hostile Helper

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

**A Hostile Helper**

* * *

The next morning, Ginny woke up in an otherwise empty bed. The covers on her side had been thrashed about violently, yet Harry's side remained relatively undisturbed. Panic washed over her, but it flowed away as quickly as it struck, driven off by hazy memories of the previous day. 

At first, they felt like little more than the remnants of a horrible nightmare, but the more she thought about them, the more they came into focus. She had been to Carthage. They went there to find another Veil. Unbidden, an image of the Veil Chamber flashed before her eyes as a dozen screams echoed faintly through her mind. They had been too late. The cloaked wizard had gotten there first. It had been waiting for them. It had been waiting for _her_. Her hand jerked convulsively at the memory of the old woman kissing it. But it hadn't been an old woman. It was _him_, the one who had forced all those poor witches and wizards to kill each other, the one who had attacked them in Romania, the one who had destroyed Mira, the one who had caressed her cheek with soft reverence...

Her stomach clenched, forcing Ginny to sit up quickly and focus all her concentration on not being sick. Taking deep, controlled breaths she was able to regain her composure to the point that other memories started floating back to her.

They had left Carthage as quickly as they could, making more of a spectacle than Harry and Josef had wanted, yet they were the two leading the escape. Her memories of the street leading back to the small inn were blurred, though she didn't know if it was by tears, delirium or merciful forgetfulness. From the inn, they took the Floo to Rome, where Harry ordered Lupin and Tonks to return to Hogwarts while Josef ran off to buy some strong liquid that burned Ginny's throat when she emptied the small flask.

After that, she seemed to have a little more difficulty remembering just what had happened. She didn't know if there had been two or three more Floo trips before Harry had grasped her arm tightly and Apparated to the alley across from Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. She did remember stumbling through the front door and letting Harry and Josef help her up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Harry. Some time later she remembered him returning with a small glass of pale blue potion. She drank as much as she could and had fell asleep almost immediately.

Shaking off the last ghosts of the previous day, she tossed aside the covers and walked over to the window near the bed. Pulling aside the drapes, she squinted into the grey winter sky. Through the haze she could see that it was already late morning. Thinking back through her dark memories, she realized that it was only Sunday and at that moment, hundreds of students across Britain were making their way to King's Cross to take the train back to Hogwarts. Not even two weeks had passed since they had left for Romania in their doomed attempt to rescue the Brotherhood. So much had happened since then. They had managed to rescue Josef, but the outcome was hardly bright. They didn't even know what they were facing and the situation already seemed beyond hope. Perhaps it was better that the students at Hogwarts didn't know. At the moment, Ginny envied them.

Instead of her customary dressing gown, she picked out a fresh set of robes, since she was still wearing the set she'd worn in Carthage. Pairing them almost humorously with a set of warm slippers, she padded down the stairs in search of Harry.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table, leaning over a piece of parchment surrounded by a large, half-empty bottle of Firewhisky, a cup of tea, and an old inkwell. His face was still and passive, frozen in an expression of weary despair. At the sound of Ginny's approach, he sat up and looked at her from behind a cheerful mask.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Is it?" she replied flatly. "Is this what passes for a good morning these days? I suppose it's got its bright points, but I can't say I'm really encouraged by the lower standards we're living with now."

Harry ignored her comments and quickly returned to his previous, melancholy state. Picking up a nearby quill, he scratched at the parchment vigorously, inking out a line of script.

"Josef is gone," he announced with a sigh.

Ginny's throat tightened. "He's... _gone_?" she choked.

"No, no—" Harry replied quickly, straightening up and giving her an apologetic look. "Nothing like that. He's just... not here."

"Where is he?"

This time Harry flashed a bitter smile. "I wish I knew."

"You don't know where he is?" Ginny replied immediately. "But I thought— I remember him helping me... at least, I— He was here, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," Harry answered with a stiff nod. "We took you up to the bedroom. I was worried he might do something like this, but he insisted that he needed to speak with me in private, so I left him here while I gave you a potion to let you sleep without any nightmares. When I came back down, he was gone."

"But where—" gasped Ginny. "He could have been attacked or— We need to find him!"

Harry gave her a tired shrug. "No, we don't. If he doesn't want to be here, I don't have the time or patience to hunt him down and chastise him like some wayward child. I wanted him here so I could keep an eye on him. It's obvious that he doesn't want that."

"You're watching him? But why?"

Harry eyes never left the parchment in front of him, but Ginny could see a thoughtful look on his face. "There's something he isn't telling me. Though I've only known him for a year and a half, I know him almost as well as I know Ron. I can tell when he's keeping secrets from me, even if I haven't any idea what they are."

"I know Josef, too," Ginny replied, "and he's far too much like you. It would be just like him to slip away and try to do things alone. If he knows something, we can't just let him run off and get himself—"

Ginny's voice cut off abruptly before she could speak her fears. From his seat at the table, Harry tried to sound as comforting as possible. "He might be like me, but not that way. He always said I was the impulsive one. No, I suspect he left simply to get some time to himself. At most, he's gone to check on someone important to him. There's no point in looking for him. When he wants to be found, he'll find us."

Harry said this with enough confidence and finality that Ginny couldn't find any other argument to attempt. Instead, she simply dropped onto a chair across from Harry and slid the half-empty cup of tea toward her. "What's that?" she asked, motioning toward the parchment.

"Ideas," Harry offered in explanation. "Without Ron and Hermione, I was—"

"Where are they?" interrupted Ginny.

"Hermione's flat at Diagon Alley," he answered quickly. "—I was forced to try and work all of this out for myself. I'm certain that we're meant to be able to figure it out. Whoever —or whatever— this wizard is, he wanted us to come to Carthage. He mentioned it to you knowing that I would find out. I'm certain he means to do the same thing again, but this time it's not as obvious. That must mean he needs more time. If we can just figure it out before he means for us to, we might have a chance. I've been looking at this for hours, and I—"

"Have you slept at all?" she interrupted again. "Harry, you can't keep—"

"—I feel that there must be something I'm missing," Harry continued forcefully, stopping Ginny and ignoring her at the same time. "I've been going over everything y— everything that was said in the chamber, but I have to admit that my memory isn't as clear as it normally is."

"I'm not surprised," said Ginny scathingly. "Out of curiosity, which came first? Did the whisky tell you that you didn't need sleep or did the lack of sleep convince you that half a bottle of whisky would be the solution to your problem?"

"Neither," Harry snorted. "The need for both was driven by the same goal. The potion I gave you doesn't work on me. I've taken far too much of it. Pomfrey managed to find another one that worked, but I have no idea what it was and all I've got here is the one I gave you. No sleep means no nightmares and plenty of whisky takes the edge off the memories which are almost worse."

"And was it worth it?"

"I hope so," he answered, "because neither managed to help me figure out what we're supposed to do next." He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the parchment in front of him. "I've gone over everything so many times I lost count. I've written it all down a dozen times, but I can't find what I'm looking for. I sent an owl to Valencia, but even if she's willing to reply, I can't expect anything until tomorrow." He slammed a hand down on the table, crumpled the parchment into a ball and tossed it into the fireplace where Ginny could still see the charred corners of his previous attempts.

"I'm missing something, I know it," he growled. "He wanted us to be there. He wanted to see us. The Veil was already destroyed. It had to be. The whole thing was a charade from the start. He knew we didn't have the Jewel he wanted. He was just toying with us, and yet there was some purpose behind it." Harry spun around in his seat and stood up to pace in front of the table. "He wants this Jewel and assumes that we know how to get it. If we were to find it somehow, he must think that we'll find some way to deliver it. There must be something I've missed. It wouldn't be anything obvious, but something we'd find later, possibly only when we'd found this Jewel as well."

Harry paused and stared into the fire, lowering his voice until it was little more than a whisper. "I just wish I could figure out what it was before then. I've thought of everything, but none of it makes sense. Not considering everything else."

"So, you _have_ found something?"

Harry tossed a strange look at her. "I haven't found what I'm looking for."

"Well, what _did_ you find?"

Harry turned away from her. "In the end, the only thing that I can't account for —that I can't understand— and that holds any chance of helping me figure out what is happening—" Harry turned again and stared directly into her eyes, "—is _you_."

"What?" she gasped. "Me? What... do you mean?"

"No one had any idea where that wizard would show up. Valencia made a list of possibilities based on research that must have been going on for months —or even longer. Josef, with all the witches and wizards he's paid to report news to him, couldn't even venture a guess. All the rest of the attacks were centered around Romania and Greece. We had every reason to think that he would immediately go to Troy or Santorini. I picked Carthage because I thought it was the least likely of the group to be the next target. I wanted to get ahead of him and figure out what he was doing, but you_knew_," he said, emphasizing the final word with a pained expression, "you knew he would be there."

Harry began pacing, taking care not to look at Ginny. "I thought you had somehow found out there was a Veil at Carthage. I didn't know how, but I figured Josef might have been involved. He was acting strangely at the time and I'm not so blind that I haven't noticed him sharing secrets with you." He stopped finally, but kept his eyes on the floor. "But that wasn't it. It wasn't the Veil you knew about, it was _him_. You knew he would be there. You knew he would be waiting for us, and you knew that he wanted this Jewel." He turned to glare at Ginny with a look of betrayal. "You spoke to him, didn't you?"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but she was strangled by fear and guilt, turning her plea for understanding into little more than a pathetic gasp.

"When did it happen?" he asked quietly. "How long has it been?"

"Not long," she replied hoarsely. "It was just after we rescued Josef, when I spent the night in the H—" Her throat tightened again with the memories of that night but she forced herself to continue. "It was when I was in the Hospital Wing."

"And Josef was there. That is why he was acting strangely. He knew it, too. He was just better at hiding it."

"No, no," she insisted. "He didn't know. He... It was a— a nightmare or a vision, but Josef stopped it. He woke me up. I... didn't tell him what happened, but I think he understood. He wanted me to tell you..."

"Really? I find that a little surprising. So why didn't you?" he asked stiffly. "You know that we have to stop this wizard. You know that it won't just give up. Why would you keep these secrets from us? Why, when it was the one thing we were looking for?"

"You don't understand, Harry," Ginny said as she felt her eyes growing warm. "He came to me in my sleep and... he mocked me and accused me of horrible things he wouldn't even explain. And then he told me that he wanted the Jewel." A hot tear trickled down her cheek. "He said that he'd wait for us in Carthage and that if we didn't bring it, he'd— he'd— he'd find a way to hurt you."

At the mention of this, Harry's face fell, leaving his eyes hollow. "He did, didn't he?" Ginny whispered. "That's what happened in the Chamber, isn't it? He found a way to hurt you. He found something that couldn't be stopped by charms or escaped with Portkeys."

Harry nodded silently.

"I... I didn't want to keep it a secret, but— Don't you see? He _wanted_ me to tell you. He told me because he knew there was no way out. Either I kept it from you or put you in danger. I didn't even know what the Jewel was, but I knew we didn't have it. If I told you that he was waiting for us in Carthage —or that I thought he was waiting in the chamber—"

"I would have run off immediately, possibly alone," finished Harry.

This was the unspoken fear that forced Ginny's silence, and hearing Harry say it brought both a memory of the terror she'd felt as well as a wave of relief at knowing that she'd done the right thing and that Harry finally understood.

The look on his face said it all. He didn't even try to walk back to the table. Stumbling backward, his back struck the wall and he slid down the floor, burying his face in his hands.

"So, there's nothing else?" came the muffled question a moment later.

"No, Harry, I'm s—"

"So am I," he replied. "I— I wish— I guess it doesn't matter what I wish. You're right. There wasn't any better way. I think he meant for it to be that way. He didn't expect you to tell me any more than he expected you to find the Jewel. It was just a way to hurt both of us."

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait," sighed Harry. "We sit and we wait. With luck, Valencia will be able to find out something about the Jewel the cloaked wizard wants, though I'm no longer very hopeful. Tomorrow, when Hedwig gets back, I'll send her off to look for Josef. Other than that, the best we can do is to keep our eyes out for news of more attacks. Maybe something will start making sense."

* * *

The next day, Hedwig returned and with her came a further drop in Harry's spirits. She had not brought back any response from Valencia, and the most positive news that could be taken from that was that the mysterious librarian had not returned Harry's message unopened. It provided hope, but not nearly in the amounts Ginny had hoped for. 

However, it didn't keep him from doing as he said and sending Hedwig off hours later with a dozen different letters addressed to places all across Europe. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't say that even half of them would still be alive. He hadn't spoken with most of them since well before he had reunited with Ginny. He had never told himself it was a plan which couldn't fail, it was simply the only plan he had.

The next week passed slowly and Harry was left with little to do to pass the time. With no responses from either Valencia or the dozen letters he'd sent out, he had taken to disguising himself and traveling about Britain and the north of France to whatever pubs or inns he could find. He told himself that he was trying to spot Josef, but the truth of the matter was that he was simply trying to pass the time.

When the next week arrived, he decided he had waited long enough and he announced to Ginny that he was going to Hogwarts. Though it was obvious she didn't like the idea, there was little she could do beyond giving him a frustrated glare and a few pointless arguments that he'd forgotten only moments after they ended. She was tied up with meetings and negotiations for the next round of the Quidditch World Cup.

Arriving at Hogwarts, he told himself that he wouldn't leave until he'd forced Valencia to tell him whatever she knew. It seemed clear that she had been holding back on them, and Harry was determined to see that come to an abrupt end. The reality of the situation was something he wasn't quite prepared for.

Despite their previously strained relationship, Valencia was eager —almost desperate— to tell Harry about all of the things he had researched and all of the different hints and clues she'd run across. It took well over an hour just to listen to her explain what she'd been doing for the last week and quite a few more to have her show Harry the small library of books she'd collected while doing it. It was well into the evening when Harry began to realize that the source of Valencia's enthusiasm was the hope that Harry would be able to fill in everything that she hadn't found.

Her mood soured quickly upon finding that Harry had even less information than she did, yet at the same time, it seemed to dissolve some of the tension that had come between them lately. Driven by her disappointment, she began burying Harry in a pile of books and old manuscripts, hoping that something he would read might make more sense to him than it had to her.

In the end, it helped Harry get a better understanding of what she'd tried to tell him during the first hour of his visit, even if it didn't really help either of them gain any more knowledge.

It had taken Valencia quite a few sleepless days of searching before she had found the very first reference to any sort of jewel which might be related to the Veils, and even then it was less than a sentence and only mentioned an ancient legend which spoke of a jewel which could create Death Gates. From there, Valencia had started to stumble across a number of things which shared enough similarities to make them difficult to ignore. There were old manuscripts which mentioned an artifact capable of opening doorways to the world of the dead. Others spoke of bands of wizards disappearing while searching for a device which could open a passageway to immortality, and one half-charred book had contained a whole paragraph about the Prison of Darkness which had been locked with a crystal key.

Despite the number of references they were manage to link together, none of them gave them even the slightest clue of where they might go to try and find it. In numerous places it was said to carry curses so strong that to look upon it was death. There were even stories about it being guarded by a dozen Basilisks or an army of powerful spirits. However, when looking in more recent sources, they all agreed that any talk of this artifact was nothing more than a fantasy created by wizards hoping to accomplish the impossible or collect gold from others who did.

Despite its authoritative dismissal by a particularly large historical tome, Harry was certain the artifact did exist and that it was the very same Jewel that the cloaked wizard had asked Ginny to bring to him. However, this knowledge didn't help him dig up any better sources and no amount of desire would pull any more meaning from the blurred, inarticulate scribblings of two thousand year old scrolls.

As the first rays of morning sun danced across the treetops of the nearby forest, Harry finally gave up. There wasn't anything more to find. Even Valencia accepted the momentary defeat. Harry left the castle feeling better than he had in a week, and yet still quite discouraged.

He returned the next week and again the week after, picking days when Ginny wouldn't notice his absence. Every hour he spent searching through dusty old books only left him more and more driven to find the answers that he knew must exist.

Early one morning, he was woken up by Ginny after a late night re-reading old books in the parlor. He was afraid that she had chosen that moment to confront him about his growing obsession with the Jewel. Instead, Harry blinked his eyes a few times and found a rather worn and shabby-looking owl perched on the back of his chair with a simple envelope tied to its leg. Ginny's mouth was pulled down in a disapproving frown, but her eyes were filled with worry.

"Were you expecting more books, Harry?" she asked. "I hope you don't have to go to Norway to get these, too."

"Er, no," Harry mumbled. "No, I wasn't expecting any more books, I... I don't know what this might be."

The moment Harry untied the envelope, the owl spread its wings and took flight, heading straight for the small window Hedwig always used. Feeling just as confused and worried as Ginny looked, Harry tore open the envelope and found nothing inside. Turning it upside-down to show Ginny, he spotted two small scraps of parchment as they fell out. They must have been stuffed into the corners.

Picking them up, Harry found that they were a pair of clippings from news articles, battered and folded, but still readable. He unfolded the larger of the two and read it carefully:

_Workers at the Russian Ministry Headquarters were surprised today when the Minister announced that they were being given a two day holiday due to the upcoming Quidditch World Cup match against Austria. While most workers were pleased by the chance to relax, many were upset that tickets for today's match had sold out well before the announcement._

For a moment, he wondered what it was supposed to mean. The match had been played a week ago. Ron had been on duty that day and Harry had to refuse tickets four times before he finally accepted that Harry wouldn't be there. For a moment, he considered the possibility that it might have been Ron trying to show him that he had missed his opportunity, but as he came to the end of the paragraph, he spotted a symbol scribbled in smudged ink. Turning it on its side, he could make out a pair of letters: _JK_.

It must have been sent by Josef. Harry felt a moment of happiness at the knowledge that Josef had not simply disappeared, but what was he trying to say? Had he been at the match? Had he expected Harry to be there as well? Perhaps the owl had gotten lost and it had taken a whole week to deliver the message. Hoping the second might give him a little more information, he unfolded it and began reading:

_The Syrian Ministry reported on Tuesday that Forty-two workers were killed when the tunnel they were working in collapsed suddenly. The Ministry claims the tragedy is nothing more than an accident, but workers at the site are refusing to continue further excavation of the Necropolis of Ugarit, claiming the ancient site is cursed._

Harry's skin felt cold and clammy. Ginny quickly snatched the scrap from him and read over it herself. "Ugarit," she whispered. "There's a Veil there, isn't there?"

"There was," Harry corrected her.

"How do you—"

"There was a Veil in Moscow, too," he added, handing the first clipping to her. "Josef sent these. He must be searching for news."

Ginny didn't have time to discuss the news with Harry. She was already helping to prepare the next match which was to be held in Edinburgh. Harry was left alone to pace throughout the house and wonder if these two incidents were the start of some new string of attacks or if the attacks had never truly stopped and it took that long for anyone to actually notice.

Over the next few weeks, more envelopes were delivered to Harry. Each time he opened them to find a new article relating some fact which seemed innocent except for the frightening pattern it fell into.

The next attack had occurred at the ruins of Delphi, where a huge explosion had created an enormous crater in the ground. The local Muggles reported it as a highly unusual volcanic phenomenon. Greek wizards were working around the clock to support this claim as Muggle scientists arrived from around the world.

Four days later it was Dresden, with a mysterious fire which gutted the deepest level of an ancient cellar. The day after that, a castle in Barcelona collapsed when an earthquake struck the city. A week later, Harry received a clipping from a Muggle magazine which had an article about a critically important discovery made at Troy. No one seemed to have any idea just what had been discovered or even who had discovered it, but the archaeological site at Troy had been closed to the public.

These periodic updates from Josef did very little to make Harry feel any better about his own lack of progress. He brought the clippings to Valencia in hopes that the attacks might point them toward the Jewel, but they had absolutely no luck at all. When he got news that a group of visiting wizards had gone missing near Sparta, he only told Valencia in an effort to prove that he was not trying to keep information from her.

On the second of February, Harry received yet another envelope. He didn't open it after taking it from the owl. Instead, he simply let it lay on the fireplace mantle for a day while he contemplated the situation. Finally, after a day of waiting he forced himself to open it on the off chance that Josef had written a real note requesting assistance or giving some sort of information which might actually help him.

Instead, it was yet another clipping. An underwater explosion had struck Santorini. A small fishing boat was caught in a whirlpool killing a man and his son. It was from a Muggle newspaper. Harry crumpled the scrap and tossed it into the fire. The wizards living at Santorini probably didn't even know what had happened.

Harry threw himself into a chair and covered his face in disgust. He felt alone. There had to be another way. He couldn't find the Jewel. He couldn't even find Josef. Everything they had done to try and stop the cloaked wizard had failed. They couldn't tell anyone about it without risking the world labeling them as lunatics. There was nothing to do. He would have given up if he wasn't certain that the cloaked wizard would do everything he had threatened to do. Without anything else to do, Harry sequestered himself inside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He stopped going to Hogwarts and stopped looking for books which may or may not contain some weak reference to the Jewel. He stayed at home, ignoring his growing anxiety and trying to make it look like he wasn't bothered. Ginny wasn't fooled, but she knew not to press the subject either.

After two weeks of this charade, Harry got a note from Valencia telling him that she'd found something worth looking at. Using a combination of persuasion, gold and a healthy dose of flirting, she managed to convince a librarian at Athens to let her borrow a few crates worth of old tablets. While at the library, she had become convinced that they contained accounts of at least one attempt to find the Jewel.

Harry's professed apathy disappeared and he found himself a Hogwarts within the hour. Together, they worked to translate the tablets, searching for any sign of their goal. After six hours of mind-numbing boredom, they stumbled across a line mentioning the very thing they had been looking for.

A band of adventurers from Macedonia had set out to find an artifact they thought would grant them power over death. The tablet described their numbers and origins and dress in great detail, but spent quite a bit less time explaining just where they got this idea. The leader of the group had recently traveled to Delphi and Harry felt that it wasn't unreasonable to assume that the Oracle might have gave him some clue. Of course, that knowledge did them no good now. It described the boat they had built for the voyage, the celebration at their departure, and reports of the weather as they sailed. Working faster, they began reading about their course when Valencia suddenly stopped.

She let out an annoyed gasp and asked for more light. Harry obliged, lighting his wand and pointing it down at the tablet. It was then that he saw it. Just where Valencia had stopped reading, the tablet had been worn smooth so that no writing could be seen. This empty patch widened from that point, covering the last quarter of the tablet. When she reached for the next in the crate, she found that it was recounting the tale of a king and his dealings with a particularly rebellious daughter.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Valencia dropped the tablet on the table and leaped up out of her chair. After pacing back and forth twice, she grabbed the wooden chair she had been sitting on and hurled it across the room where it exploded into splinters against the charmed bookshelves.

It was easy to see what had been done. Suddenly all of the clues started to make sense. They had never managed to find anything more than weak connections between the stories and now they knew why. Someone had purposefully removed everything that might be of use to someone searching for the Jewel.

"They won't allow us to find it," Valencia growled. "They won't even let us look. This is what they've been hiding. This is the key. I _knew_ it the moment I heard those witches speak in Carthage."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, still gazing mournfully at the smooth surface of the tablet. "Who are _they_? Do you think there is more than one of these cloaked wizards?"

"No, it's not him," she replied sharply. "If he knew where the Jewel was, he wouldn't ask us for it, and if he didn't he'd want to use us to help him find it. No, this is just like the_History of Magic_, she said. Someone doesn't want us to find the Jewel and they've been destroying all evidence that might help us."

"Who would do that?" Harry wondered.

"To keep it from our enemy," she said distractedly. "The infuriating part is that I know the information we want is still out there."

"How do you know that?"

"Because other people have lost their lives just because they found it."

"Wait, what do you mean? Who was killed?"

"It's not important, Harry," she said. "The important thing is that we've been wasting our time. We're not going to find anything useful in any of this trash," she said, motioning to the piles of books and scrolls around them. "They've already taken anything that could help us. They are hundreds of years ahead of us."

An idea suddenly came to Harry. "Maybe we're just looking in the wrong spot. We need to look somewhere where they can't interfere."

"What do you have in mind?" she asked him with real curiosity.

"Winston Fullbright was involved in some sort of experiment where they tried to control the Veil in London. What if the Department of Mysteries knows something that no one else does? They've been researching the Veil for centuries. What if they have something no one else does?"

"This isn't a new idea," Valencia replied, "and it's not a useful one, either. I have quite a bit of influence, but not at your Ministry. Whatever they might have is beyond my reach."

"Luckily for us, this is a problem we might be able to solve."

* * *

Harry stood alone in front of the door to Hermione's flat. Despite his invitation, Valencia refused to go with him, insisting that she could not leave the school until the students had gone to their common rooms for the night. He thought her presence might have convinced Hermione of the seriousness of his request, but in the end, it was probably for the best. It was just as likely that Valencia would make Hermione uncomfortable and that was the last thing he needed. 

He knocked firmly and waited patiently for some sort of response. He listened closely and heard absolutely nothing. Knocking again, he put his ear to the door and started to worry that no one was there. He'd checked the World Cup schedule before he left just to be certain, but there were no matches for another two weeks. At the very least, Ron should have been there. Hermione wasn't at Hogwarts and she rarely went to the Ministry. If she was not in her flat, it didn't leave all that many options that Harry wanted to consider.

He knocked a third time, louder this time and followed it by trying to shout through the door. He pulled out his wand and was about to turn it on the lock when the door suddenly swung open and Ron reached out to grab Harry's robes and tug him into the flat. Before Harry could regain his balance, the door had slammed behind him.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked stiffly.

"Er, it's good to see you, too, Ron."

"Sorry," he apologized. "It's just... a bit unusual, you know? We've barely seen you in a month and from the sound of it, Ginny hasn't seen much more of you. Is everything alright?"

Harry frowned. "I don't know what 'alright' would really be, to be honest," he answered.

"Yeah, I think I feel the same way," agreed Ron, glancing over his shoulder. "Is there something you need?"

"I was hoping to find Hermione."

"Oh, Well, now might not be the best time. Can it wait a bit?"

Harry sensed something off in Ron's voice. "What is it?" he asked. "Is something wrong with Hermione?"

Ron looked over his shoulder again and then he gently grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him into the kitchen. "Something's been wrong with Hermione for quite a while, Harry," he whispered.

"Is it getting worse?" Harry pressed him, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

"No, not much actually," Ron replied quietly, "and that's the point, really. She did some research and got some help from some Healer at St. Mungo's. She's been taking a potion that seems to be slowing it down. It hasn't been able to stop it from spreading, but she keeps saying that she's confident it will." He sighed wearily. "It's better than nothing, but it makes her feel horrible. After a bottle of it, she usually shuts herself in her room and sleeps for a few hours. She should be waking up any time now. The fact that she's not up right now means that I must have finally managed a decent Silencing Charm. Anyway, what's this about?"

"I need her help," Harry said, earning him a cringe from Ron. "I'm trying to find the Jewel. You know, the one from Carthage."

Ron gave Harry a funny look, then relaxed and even smiled a bit. "Oh. Just that?" he said. "You made it sound like something difficult."

"What? What do you—" Harry sputtered. "It _is_ difficult. I've been looking for it for a month!"

"Well, you're not very good at it, are you?" Ron replied with a crooked smile. He walked across the kitchen to a small chest of drawers not far from the front door. "I think it's somewhere in here. I would have given it to you earlier if you'd have asked. I didn't think you cared."

Harry stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, here it is!" Ron called out triumphantly. Before Harry could even see what Ron had pulled out of the drawer, he found it flying toward him. He wasn't sure if he should dodge it or catch it and before he could make up his mind, it struck him in the chest. Reacting without thought, he caught it before it dropped to the ground.

In his hand, he was holding a large, blue jewel carved into a glittering square and polished heavily. "What is this?" he asked, staring down at the thing in utter confusion.

"It's the jewel," Ron answered him with an equally confused look. "The one we bought from the old woman in Carthage. It was creepy enough at the time, but after seeing her dead, neither of us really had much affection for it. I guess I had forgotten about it. It's probably not even worth the gold we paid for it. It's got a bunch of flaws in it. Probably Muggle work," he added with disgust. Seeing the look on Harry's face, he paused. "What's the matter. Isn't that what you were looking for?"

Harry stared down at the jewel and felt his heart pounding in his chest. He had been telling himself that the cloaked wizard must have left some clue and, like Ron, he had totally forgotten about the one thing they had taken back with them. Looking closer at the stone, Harry saw what Ron had described. The center of the stone looked cloudy or blurred, yet the edges were as clear as the best wizard-made jewels he'd bought for Ginny. Looking closer, he began to think he could almost see shapes in its center.

Taking the stone over to the large window in the other room, Harry held it up in the afternoon sun and held the jewel up to his eye.

"What is it?" Ron asked over his shoulder. "What do you see?"

"It's a ship," Harry whispered. In the sunlight, the cloudy shape was clearly visible as a tall ship with sails billowing in the wind.

"You think it means something?"

"Yes," Harry said, nodding slowly. "You were right, Ron. This is exactly what I was looking for. This is going to tell us how to find the cloaked wizard."

Ron's reply was filled with doubt. "How is it going to do that? I mean, is it a clue of some sort? This wizard is on a ship somewhere? That's not that much of a hint, you know. There must have been a thousand ships just in Carthage. How are we supposed to know which one?"

"I don't think we are," replied Harry, "—not yet, at least— but if we're lucky we just might be able to change that." Pocketing the jewel, Harry started walking for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, looking rather bewildered.

"First, to Grimmauld Place. Ginny should be coming back shortly. She'll need to see this. Then we'll be going to the Ministry. Is Hermione able to travel?"

"After a Pepper-Up Potion, she will be," he replied.

"Good," Harry said as he opened the door. "We'll meet you at the Ministry in two hours. We may be leaving London tonight. Bring whatever you think you might need."

* * *

"You know, Harry, he was just doing his job," Ginny said as the lift clattered its way toward the Department of International Magical Cooperation. 

"He's seen me two dozen times! He knows exactly who I am," Harry growled. "He even greeted me by name. There's no reason for him to check my wand every single time."

"I agree. It's totally unreasonable," Ron added with a lopsided grin. "They treat him as if he has a habit of breaking into the Ministry."

Beside him, Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not helping, Ronald." She was still a little groggy but she was trying hard not to let it show.

"They're just being cautious," Ginny said, glaring at Ron as well. "It might even be for the best. You don't want anyone trying to sneak into the Ministry by impersonating you."

"I don't?" asked Harry. "I think it might be worth it if I wasn't harassed every time I try to _do my job_. Of course, I'd probably be the one to stop them, and I'd probably still be blamed for it."

The lift doors opened and Harry strode out, leaving the others to catch up. A few witches were standing nearby and talking in loud voices. As Harry approached the fell silent and simply stared at him. He ignored them and continued down the corridor to Carmilla Candlewright's desk.

"Mister Potter!" she said, obviously surprised to see him. "Why... I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, it seems no one does," he grumbled. "I do still work here don't I? I haven't been sacked yet, have I?"

"No, not at all—"

"Then why is everyone act so bloody suspicious when I walk around here?"

"It's not that, it's— Well, I—" she sputtered as his friends caught up to him and Ginny hit him lightly for being harsh with the old woman.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," she said, regaining her composure. "I am surprised because I _did_ expect you, but not so soon. I sent out the message just a minute ago."

Harry froze. "A message? You sent out a message telling me to come here?"

"I sent a note to request an owl to deliver the summons and for the guard at the gate to expect you."

Harry frowned. "I'm going to hope that he hadn't gotten it. Has something happened? Was there another attack?"

"Attack?" she replied with a little fear. "No, no attacks. Is there supposed to be an attack? Should we send word to the Aurors?" Her hands had already found a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment.

"No, forget it. It's nothing. I assume it was from Harrington. Did he say what he wanted? This isn't the best time for a delivery."

"No, it's not that," she replied. "There is a visitor here. He didn't announce himself, but I've seen him here many times." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "The Romanian," she said, giving Ginny a meaningful look. Harry didn't respond and didn't wait for any more information. Walking quickly, he made his way to Harrington's office and threw open the door without knocking.

Hunched uncomfortably in a chair with his hands clasped in front of him was Josef Kantos. His eyes betrayed the exhaustion of many sleepless nights and the look he gave Harry as he entered the office didn't inspire much hope. Flanking him and looking only slightly more comfortable were Mrs. Reading and Mr. Harrington.

"Something is happening," Josef announced dully. "Something worth worrying about."

"And yet, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," Harry said.

"What's that?" Ron asked as he stepped through the door with Ginny and Hermione right behind him. "Good news? It's been a while since we had some of that."

Josef waited for Hermione to shut he door before sitting back and speaking in a flat, tired voice: "Somewhere, hundreds, maybe thousands of people are in danger."

"Right then," Ron said weakly. "Well I guess that's... better news than finding out they're already dead." With a pained expression, he turned and walked off toward a quiet corner of the room.

"We're prepared to leave immediately," Harry declared. "We might want to stop off at a good potion shop if you know one on the way, but beyond that, we're ready to—"

"Where are we going?" Josef asked.

Harry's teeth clenched and he took a second to relax. "Wherever you tell us to go."

Josef sighed. "So, you're saying you don't know?"

"And neither do you?"

Josef fell back and covered his face with his hands, letting out another long, weary sigh. Harry began pacing along the wall, ignoring the confused and questioning looks from Harrington and Mrs. Reading. "How do you know something is happening if you haven't a clue where it's happening? If you haven't found anything, then how can you be so sure?"

Josef sat up and stared directly at Harry. "It's precisely because I cannot find anything that I'm sure something is happening."

"Wait," said Ginny. What was that about? What do you mean?"

"The details are unimportant," Josef said. "The important part is that I know something is about to happen."

Harrington cleared his throat and stood up, putting himself between Harry and Josef. "Since neither of you has any idea where to go, why don't you share some of those details and let us decide just how unimportant they are," he said, gesturing toward Mrs. Reading. "We're losing two employees to this business and—"

"—And the whole of Europe and possibly the world will thank you for your sacrifice," Josef finished. "Unless, of course, we fail, in which case I'm afraid that working out the right proportion of seats to give the French and Russian Quidditch teams will be the least of our problems."

"I would ask for a little more respect when you are sitting in _my office_," Harrington said with restrained anger. "I have not once complained about what you have been doing. I've lied and kept secrets and falsified records to see that the Minister has no reason to second guess my decisions. I think I've been more than accommodating and so I feel it's hardly out of place for me to ask for a little information." He turned around and relaxed a little, leaning against his desk. "I'm not looking for information so I can track you or report you. I was trying to _help_ you."

"There have been some... disappearances," Josef said reluctantly. "Quite a few, actually, and from all across Europe."

"I haven't heard anything like that," Harrington replied.

"No, that's the point."

"It would be almost impossible to keep a large number of disappearances quiet," added Mrs. Reading. "One or two might slip through, but any numbers much higher than that and _someone_ is going to take notice. It might be easy to make someone disappear, but it's hard to keep people from realizing they're gone."

Josef nodded faintly. "You're right, but what if no one realized they were there in the first place?"

"Well, that would make it easier, yes," Harrington commented. "Still, these sort of things always get noticed by someone. The ministries and papers would rarely hear of such things, but this sort of information is common in the darker of the back alleys. I know you have quite a few contacts in such places. Why not check with them?"

Josef's lips tightened into a line and he stared down at the floor. "Yes, I agree that is a fine plan. Of course, it is based on the assumption that those contacts are not the people I've been trying to find."

"Well, that's it then," Harry said, nearly jumping out of his chair. "It's got to be the cloaked wizard, right? If we don't know which Veil is next, then we just have to guess which of these contacts is next."

Josef leaned forward, covering his face with his hands and mumbled something Harry couldn't quite make out.

'What was that?"

"That won't work," Josef repeated harshly.

"Why not? If you're afraid of dragging all of us along, you don't have to. It can just be the two of us. They'll trust me if they see me with—"

"It won't work," growled Josef, "because there are all gone." He looked up at Harry, letting the message sink in. "I know something bad is happening because the last one disappeared a week ago."

"What about Athens? Have you—"

"_All of them,_" Josef said with finality.

"So we're looking for something else, then," Harry told Harrington in a sober tone. He didn't want to force Josef to say anything more for the time being. "The disappearances have stopped. No one noticed them, but maybe they've noticed something else. We're looking for anything out of place that's happened in the past week or two. It's probably not something overtly violent or troubling. It could be something totally harmless like a house suddenly being bought and boarded up or some official who started acting strangely for no reason."

"I've been spending every minute thinking about the Quidditch World Cup," Mrs. Reading announced, "but even so, I could probably come up with a dozen stories like that."

"She's right," agreed Harrington. "I know what you're saying, Harry, but it's never hard to find things which are only slightly abnormal. Even if you were just looking for officials who have been acting strangely, I could name a dozen without leaving Britain, and I'd be at the top of the list. Why, I'd wager you could find at least a pair of wizards fitting that description in every city in Europe."

"Ah," spoke Josef, sitting up a little, "but we're not interested in every city. In fact, we're only interested in a small number. We only really care about the oldest and largest cities."

"—And then only those near the sea or some sort of large lake!" added Ron.

Harrington looked to be deep in thought. "Well, that might be a little more practical. Of course, this presents another obstacle." Harry braced for the worst, and asked what this new danger was.

"If you're looking for information on the past weeks, there are only two places you can go for good information. The first is the_Department of Mysteries_ and the second is Evelyn Sibley."

"They won't let me in," Hermione announced quickly. "Not without someone watching me at all times and not with any of you."

"I think I'd rather fight my way through the Department of Mysteries than talk to Evelyn," groaned Ginny.

The room fell silent for a few moments as everyone realized that there really was only one option. "Can we trust her?" Harry asked.

"As much as you can trust anyone," Harrington answered. "To be honest, she's never been better at her job than she has been since coming back from St. Mungo's. Her moods have been a little... darker of late and I am starting to suspect that she doesn't ever go home, but if anyone can find what you're looking for it's her —assuming, that is," he added, "that she agrees to help you."

"If I go, you can make it an official request," Harry said gloomily. "She wouldn't be able to say no."

Ginny leaped up. "No! Send me instead," she insisted. "She only hates me. Her emotions toward Harry are... much more dangerous."

Harrington raised his eyebrows. "And you think she will react better toward you?"

"She'll have to," Ginny replied. "It'll be official."

"She despises you, Ginny. If you step foot in her office, she's more likely to hex you than to say two kind words."

"Then I'll go to protect her," Josef offered. "Unless anyone has heard differently, I am still an official emissary of Romania and this is the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Very well," Harrington said with a nod. "I wish you good luck, though I don't honestly expect you'll have any."

* * *

Letting Josef lead the way, Ginny left the office and walked down the dim hallway to Evelyn's corner office. As they approached, Ginny's apprehension grew to the point where she would have turned back if Josef hadn't been accompanying her. Perhaps that was the real reason why he had insisted on coming. Forcing herself to follow through, Ginny raised her hand to knock lightly on Evelyn's door. 

The response was absolute silence. Giving Josef an uncomfortable look, she simply stood in front of the door waiting for something to happen. As the silence stretched on, she began to wonder if Evelyn was refusing to answer because she had figured out that it was Ginny on the other side. Just when Ginny was about to turn give up, she heard a faint _click_ and the door slowly began to open.

Cautiously, Ginny reached out to give it a soft push. The door continued moving smoothly, opening on a darkened room lit only by the flicker of a single candle. Stepping into the room, Ginny saw Evelyn sitting at her desk, wreathed in shadow. She was still wearing her cloak and the hood was pulled down to cover half her face in shadow. Only her mouth and the lower part of her nose were visible in the wavering glow of the nearby candle.

"I can't say I'm surprised to see you," she said, not looking up from the parchment piled up on her desk. "I'd like to say that I'm disappointed you didn't figure it out earlier, but I honestly just don't care enough to bother."

"If you've been expecting me all this time, you might have simply come to find me."

"Yes, but then I would be robbing myself of the chance to see the pain in your eyes as you are forced to acknowledge your pathetic investigative abilities, and —if I must be completely honest— that is one of the few things in this world which still brings me—"

Evelyn stopped abruptly as she looked up to deliver the bitter barb. Shadow still hid her face, but Ginny didn't need to see it to know what Evelyn was staring at.

"Why is _he_ here?" she growled.

Before Ginny could answer, she heard Josef's voice answering from behind her. "Ginny is still the Liaison to Romania and I am a representative from the Romanian Ministry," he said.

"A representative of the Romanian Ministry?" Evelyn replied, cocking her head to the side slightly, yet keeping her face hidden. "You're the _only_ representative," she said pointedly. "You killed the rest of them."

"Not all of them," Josef shot back, "or have you already forgotten the part you played?"

"I haven't," she replied. "Their blood may be on my hands, but it is not on my conscience. The Gates," she said in a harsh whisper. "That is where it all began. It was _your_ actions —_your_ choices— that brought us all to this. Grigore understood. At the end, he finally saw the truth. He could have stopped all of it, but you killed him."

"You're wrong," Ginny interjected. "He sacrificed himself to save me. Josef had no part in it."

"Not compared to you, perhaps," Evelyn replied as she began absentmindedly leafing through the stack of parchment in her hands. "If Josef is responsible for the deaths of his adopted countrymen, then what crimes should you be held accountable for? What appropriate charges might we find to fit your actions? The thought itself seems almost unfair. We do not execute werewolves for their crimes. It is considered inhumane. They cannot control themselves. Murder is simply part of their nature. You are little different. Lies and betrayal are the essence of your being."

"How dare you talk to me about lies!" Ginny snapped, taking a step toward Evelyn's desk. She wanted to hit her, to yell at her and have Evelyn roar back. When she had been lying weak and broken on a bed, it was impossible to become properly angry at her for what she'd done, but now that she was sitting in front of her hurling veiled insults and accusations at her, Ginny felt the emotion welling up within her.

"You deserve every second of suffering you've been given," she snarled. "It was your doing."

"You're right," Evelyn answered coldly, returning her gaze to her desk.

Ginny was caught off-guard by the answer. "You agree? And yet, you still sit there and try to blame others?"

Evelyn's response sounded both bored and apathetic: "Yes, Ginevra, I understand what I've done and if I have one hope remaining, it is that everyone who is guilty of crimes like mine receives a similar punishment."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If I get my wish, you will know soon enough."

Ginny stared at her as she calmly scrawled a note on a scrap of parchment. "Is that... some sort of threat?"

Evelyn let out a quick sigh. "No, Ginevra, I think it's rather more like a prophecy."

"This is getting nowhere, Ginny," Josef commented, before Ginny could think of a good response. "If she will not help us then we should spend our time finding someone who will."

"Ahh, so it is that time already, is it?" Evelyn replied with a chuckle.

Josef's response was stern. "It will take only a moment to ask her, so do it and be done with it."

"Right then," Ginny said, pushing past her anger. She stared at Evelyn, disgusted that she would not even show them the courtesy of looking up from her work. "You do still work here. Harrington pays you to get information and that's what we're here looking for. I have a list of cities here and we need you to tell us if anything odd has happened in any of—"

Before Ginny had even finished, Evelyn raised her arm and pointed toward the door behind her.

Ginny's jaw clenched as she forced herself not to say all the horrible things she was thinking. She had turned around to leave when she spotted something on the chair next to the door. Spinning back around, she realized it was the thing Evelyn was pointing at, not the door. Stepping closer to the chair, she saw a scroll of parchment bound and lying on the seat. Not knowing what to expect and unwilling to ignore the mystery, Ginny reached for the scroll and quickly untied the black ribbon holding it closed.

She read it quickly, the paused and read it again, unable to either comprehend or believe its contents. "What... What is this?" she asked.

Evelyn paused to let out a long sigh. "I knew you weren't brilliant, but I assumed you could at least _read_." Josef scowled and took a step toward her, but she had already begun speaking again. "As you said," she called out, "you came here for information. Well there it is."

"What does it say?" asked Josef.

Ginny was about to answer when Evelyn interrupted her. "It's a report from Bulgaria," she announced, "and a very curious one at that. It's been some time since anyone has requested to visit that island and that was the second attempt this week."

"What are you saying?" Josef questioned her. "Are you telling us this cloaked wizard is behind these requests? What would it want with some island in the Black Sea?"

"Ask Harry," she replied with a hissing laugh. "He knows. I wonder if he'll tell you two, though. He is quite good at keeping his secrets, isn't he? Almost as good as Miss Granger."

At this, Josef bristled. "Enough!" he barked. "We're not here to talk about Harry or Miss Granger or the Minister of Magic or anything except information about any strange news from any of those cities."

"And that is precisely what you have been given," she replied.

"This is real?" Ginny said, brandishing the scroll. "It's not some worthless piece of information you're giving us as some perverse joke? This is what we've been looking for?"

Evelyn nodded silently.

"How can you be certain?"

Evelyn answered in a faint whisper, devoid of emotion or spirit. "There are things I simply know. Many of them, I wish I did not. It is not my place to question where they come from or why they have come to me."

"Why are you helping us?" Ginny snapped. "Why now? Why, after all you've done? Is this some sort of attempt at redemption?"

Leaning forward in her chair, Evelyn clutched at the arms of her chairs, digging her fingernails into the wood. "What would you care, whore?" she spat, candlelight flickering off her nose and chin. "Since when have you ever believed in the idea of redemption?" She leaned back again, returning to the shadows. "No, I have no desire for redemption or forgiveness."

"Then why should we trust you?"

"Because you have no other choice," replied Evelyn. "You came here looking for something no one could find, and I gave it to you. I never asked you to trust me. In fact, I wouldn't care if you burnt that scroll where you stand. It doesn't matter to me, and I really doubt it will make any difference to your fate."

"Why would we want some bit of news that can't help us?"

"I don't know. Discard it if you like," she grumbled. "It is nothing to me, but I suspect that your companion might disagree."

"Hold on," Ginny said, turning back to the chair by the door. "You knew we'd come looking for this. You knew precisely what we wanted. You did all of this before we even asked. Why? Why are you suddenly being so helpful?"

"If you are looking for motives, I'm afraid you will just have to accept disappointment," Evelyn whispered.

Ginny stepped closer. "You couldn't know we would come looking for this. I can't even believe that you'd know that this story, of the hundreds of bizarre reports across Europe, would be the one most useful to us. It's not possible —not without help."

"Now it seems you are the one making accusations against me."

"It's time someone did. How did you know about this?" Ginny asked, holding up the scroll. "Did _he_ tell you about it? You've never helped me before, so I find it hard to believe that you'd start now. Did this come from him? Are you still helping him?"

"Use what little scraps of logic you have," she said flatly. "What would I possibly have to gain by helping him?"

"What would you have to lose?" Josef replied.

Evelyn darted forward suddenly, ripping back her hood. "_Nothing!_" she shouted, staring at them with one brown eye and the other a pale green. "I have nothing to lose because I have nothing left. He took _everything_."

"And yet, you were less than eager to share information you knew would help us," Ginny said.

Evelyn scowled bitterly. "And why should I be eager?" she whispered harshly. "Do you honestly believe that reading that scroll a day or even a week ago would change your fate one bit? Do you still believe you can stop him?"

"Yes," Ginny replied emphatically. "Yes, I do."

Evelyn's head dropped and a thin, hissing laugh spilled out from under her hood. "Of course you do. I wonder what it is that keeps you fighting. I guess I had assumed it was simple ignorance, but perhaps it's guilt."

"I have no reason to feel guilty."

"Don't you?" Evelyn laughed. "Don't you, then? Well, I'm certain that story will change. We'll see if you can still spout such lies to his face."

"I'm not like you," replied Ginny. "I haven't done anything, and I won't do anything. I won't let myself be used like you were."

"Do you truly think you can fight him?" Evelyn asked sharply. "Did you believe your actions in Romania or Carthage caused him even the smallest amount of distress? Wake up, Ginevra. A rat will continue to struggle after the snakebite, but it cannot change the outcome. It fights only to convince itself that it isn't dead yet."

"And you are beyond such foolish thoughts, are you? If you are so certain of the outcome, why are you here? If it's hopeless then why give us this? Why eat or drink? What drives you to burden us with your presence?"

Evelyn's snapped upright, the candlelight flickering in her one green eye. "Nothing at all," she said slowly, "except_you_." Ginny felt a chill run down her spine at the tone in Evelyn's voice as it continued. "You cannot imagine the pain of my existence. Every waking hour is torture and every minute of sleep is a nightmare beyond imagination, but I would suffer twenty lifetimes so that I might be here to watch your spirit be ripped apart as everything you care about is torn from you and slowly destroyed."

"You are a vile, heartless, wretched creature," Ginny snapped. "Even now, you can only cling to this mindless hatred._You_ are the one to blame for everything that has happened to you. I haven't done anything to you."

Evelyn just stared back at her coldly. "You can't possibly understand how wrong you are, but you will —and soon. Now get out," she growled, pointing at the door.

Once the door to Evelyn's office was tightly closed, Josef turned toward Ginny with a rather blank look on his face. "Well," he began with a sigh, "I'd like to think that wasn't your most diplomatic moment, but I suppose the results are worth it."

"Are they?" she replied. "The report is days old. Even if it has any meaning at all, we're too late to do anything about it."

"I'm not so certain," Josef said. He reached out to touch her shoulder reassuringly. "There may be more hope than you realize. If this truly is our cloaked wizard, then he may have found himself matched against a foe even he cannot overcome."

"What would that be?"

Josef smiled and held up the scroll. "Bureaucracy. Come on. This will take time and that's very precious to us now."

Leading Ginny back to Harrington's office, Josef threw open the door and tossed the scroll to Harry. "How quickly can you get yourself to Bulgaria?"

Everyone watched in tense silence as Harry unrolled the scroll and quickly read it. A moment later, his head snapped up, looked over at Ron, then at Josef and Ginny. "We can be there in an hour."

"That will do."

"Is this true?" Harry asked. "This isn't just a rumor?"

"There's no reason to doubt it."

"It's got to be him. It all fits. Do we have time?"

Josef nodded. "I have to assume so. If he succeeded, I'm certain we'd have heard about it."

"What does it say, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking rather frustrated.

"It's a report saying that an eccentric Bulgarian wizard has recently started making official requests to visit a restricted castle near Varna."

Ron stepped forward. "That doesn't really help me. Is there something—"

"It's a castle on an _island_, Ron," Harry replied pointedly. "It's covered with charms. It's hidden and blocked from Apparation. The only way to get there is—"

"By boat!" Ron nearly shouted. Everyone except Harrington and Mrs. Reading seemed to understand the significance of this.

"Can you find your way to Sofia?" Josef asked.

"Yes. Why there, though? Why not Varna?"

"What about Remus Lupin?"

"Er... what about him?"

"Can you convince him to join you?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I suppose so, but he might not have time. I'll speak with him tomorrow and see when he might be—"

"No, it needs to be tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, Harry," insisted Josef. "You must be in Sofia this evening. All of you. I will meet you there tomorrow morning."

"But I don't know any safe fireplaces there. I don't know what I'm doing there. Where are we supposed to sleep?"

"In an inn!" Josef barked. "They are quite a bit better than sleeping in an alley, I promise you."

"But— We can't—" complained Harry, "We'll be spotted. They don't really trust me there, and they'll recognize Ginny, and if they remember Hermione, they won't be very happy."

Josef was unmoved. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, and though I cannot think of anything Ron has done beyond, perhaps, some unnecessarily strict treatment of a gang of Bulgarian children, I feel it would be pointless for him not to go as well." Everyone stared at Josef, waiting for some announcement that he was merely joking, but nothing came. "I'd be much more comfortable if Remus Lupin was with you and if you can convince Miss Desmoda and Miss Tonks to join you, that would also do nicely."

"But... I don't have enough Polyjuice Potion for that many people," Harry continued. "It would take all night just to collect enough."

"You'll just have to manage without it, then," Josef told him as he clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. "There is one more complication," he said. "Your recent activities haven't gone unnoticed. Quite a few ministries have started to talk about your search for more information about Veils and Gates and legendary jewels. They are very interested in hearing an explanation for your actions... personally. The Bulgarians and Greeks seem to be at the forefront of this movement. Some care will be required on your part."

Harry simply glared at him. "They think I'm the one who destroyed the Veil in Romania. They'll put me on trial!"

"No, they won't," Josef said with a smile. "Trials are only for people who commit crimes in Bulgaria. They don't think you're a criminal, just a homicidal dark wizard. They'd just throw you in prison straight away. However, I doubt they'll be so hasty as to do that to you before they figured out why you came there."

"That's not reassuring."

"Trust me, Harry," Josef said as he walked to the door. "There is no time to waste. We may never get this chance again. Get to Sophia as soon as possible. Bring as many of your friends as you can convince. I will meet you outside your inn tomorrow morning."

Then without giving Harry a chance to even try to explain how much he didn't like the idea of spending the rest of his life in prison, Josef opened the door and slipped out of the room.

"What are we going to do?" Ron asked.

Harry rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "We're going to Hogwarts," he announced. "It's going to take time to convince Lupin and even by Floo, it's going to take us an hour or more to get to Bulgaria."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I told you the story wasn't dead. Sorry for the long wait. I've restructured my efforts a bit and I'm off and running again. As proof I offer this promise: Chapter 9 is coming in just a day or two. It's already finished and going through final edits.

It's also _long_. A good chapter for people interested in sailing, shopping, wizard fashion and Josef.


	9. The Demeter

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

**The Demeter**

* * *

Harry awoke to the sound of a sharp knock on a heavy wooden door. Without thinking, he had reached for his wand and pointed it at the door, ready for robed wizards to burst through. When no one came, he relaxed a little and realized that Ginny was sitting up next to him holding her wand as well. 

The knock came again, but this time it was accompanied with a voice. "Mr. Harker?" it called out. "I have something for you."

Sharing a suspicious look with Ginny, Harry rolled out of bed and put on a dressing gown, then motioned for Ginny to hide herself in the corner beyond the fireplace. "Be there in a moment," he called out to the visitor. There was good reason for him to be suspicious. He'd arrived at the inn last night late into evening, but not so late that the tavern hadn't been filled with witches and wizards enjoying an assortment of drinks. It was hard enough to get a room at an inn without drawing attention, but he had to get six of them. No amount of false names could keep the Bulgarian Ministry from knowing he'd arrived. Until that morning, however, the most he'd gotten from the locals was a few questioning glares and a solitary smile of happiness at the gold he paid to see that all of the rooms were ready immediately.

The idea of a visitor at such an early hour didn't make him feel any better. He approached the door from the side, allowing himself to hide the fact that his wand was drawn and ready, yet not stopping him from using it if the occasion demanded it. He turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door just a few inches. "What is it?" he called out, with a little less kindness than your average innkeeper might expect.

A hooded wizard stepped close to the door and peered through the opening with pale blue eyes. He was holding a small scroll. "I have a message from a wizard downstairs," he said in a voice Harry now recognized. "He said it was very important." Harry took the scroll, opened it quickly and read the short line of text:

_Ministry Courtyard. One hour. Bring Everyone._

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who this man is," Harry said, repeating the rehearsed response and handing the note back.

Josef furrowed his brow and feigned disappointment. "Are you certain? Are you traveling alone? Perhaps someone else in your party. Is there anyone else I might speak with?"

"Only my wife," replied Harry, motioning for Ginny to step out into view.

"Very well," Josef said with a stiff nod. "A blind man could see that she is no wizard. The man must have been mistaken. I am very sorry to disturb you."

Harry closed the door and let himself relax. Ginny was still looking at the doorway as if it might be able to answer her questions. "Was... was that Josef?" she asked. "What was he talking about?"

"He was delivering a message in a way that no one could overhear," Harry replied. "I'm surprised he hasn't taught it to you, yet."

"He hasn't done anything more than answer questions I feel I'm entitled to," Ginny said with a little annoyance. "What did the message say? And how long have you been claiming that I am your wife?"

Harry quickly turned away from her and began searching the small bag they brought for a fresh set of robes. "We're supposed to meet him at the Ministry Courtyard in an hour. I'll get dressed and wake the others." He decided it was best to leave the other question unanswered.

* * *

An hour later, Harry found himself standing in a wide, multi-leveled courtyard surrounded by a dozen stone buildings, each of them looking far older than Hogwarts. He felt anxious and tense. The eight of them were drawing quite a few looks and there was no place less conspicuous for them to stand. Tonks and Simon had stepped further away from the group and had been patrolling the nearby area. 

Ten minutes passed without any change. Harry looked down at his watch. Josef had said he would meet them in an hour and now he was late. It wasn't like him. Everyone could see the concern in Harry's eyes and it began to worry them, too. Hermione became visibly agitated, folded her arms over her chest and began pacing about. Valencia, who seemed to dislike their exposed location even less than Harry, was wearing a heavy hood and sitting gloomily at the foot of a tall statue of a bearded wizard holding an axe. She had quickly agreed to come to Bulgaria, but now it looked as though she was having second thoughts.

After another ten minutes, Harry's patience was exhausted. Something didn't feel right. Josef was always very punctual. With a signal, Harry gathered everyone and began leading them toward the main gate leading out of the courtyard. Despite being a Saturday, quite a few people were flowing in and out of the gateway, forcing Harry and his friends to wade through the crowd.

Halfway to their destination, Harry felt someone bump into him. He looked over, caught a brief flash of blue eyes and a whisper: "Red stone building, second door on the left."

Before Harry could even turn to respond, Josef had slipped off through the crowd leaving Harry to try and extract the rest of the group from the throng of wizards who still wanted to leave. Josef was long gone by the time he managed to gather them all and begin walking to a narrow building made of deep red brick. Harry led everyone up the tall set of stairs and found himself in a long room bathed in yellow light from colored windows in the domed ceiling above them.

He forced himself to walk calmly to the far end of the hall and continued down the corridor. The second opening on the left led to a narrow, dimly lit passageway barely wide enough for two people. More than a dozen doors lined its walls and Harry had no idea which he was supposed to stop at. Luckily, the question was answered for him seconds later as a door creaked open just as they passed by it. Seeing Josef's face peering out at them, Harry quickly ushered the group into the small room and made sure that no one had seen them.

"You were late," Harry scolded Josef after closing the door.

"On the contrary, I was right on time."

"We waited for twenty minutes. Hundreds of people saw us just loitering about like used wand salesmen."

At this, Josef smiled. "Yes, that was what it looked like," he said. "To be honest, I didn't think you would wait that long, but it worked out for the best, in the end. I was starting to worry you wouldn't ever leave."

Harry forced himself to breathe. He could tell that Josef had done all of this for some reason. He wanted everyone to see them. "Alright," he said with a sigh, "I'm assuming this is part of some plan of yours, so why not share it with us."

"Plan?" coughed Josef. "I don't know anything about a plan." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Josef quickly spoke over him. "I mean, _I_ don't have anything you might call a plan."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing at all," Josef said lightly. "I have simply set up an appointment for you. You go talk with this nice gentleman, and I'll be waiting for you just outside the courtyard gates."

"Wait, you're not coming with us?"

"Are you insane?" Josef replied. "You're in Bulgaria, Harry. They'll ask who I am and when they find out they'll think I had something to do with what happened in Romania and lock me up until I explain it all to them."

Harry gaped at him. "But you—"

"Now Harry, don't worry about me," Josef said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll be fine. I'm good at avoiding attention. You, on the other hand, have a talent for drawing it."

"Well, I do better when I'm not tricked into making myself stand out like a goat in an owlery. Just what sort of appointment is this? Who are we talking to?"

"The Chief Magistrate of Bulgaria," answered Josef. "They don't really have anything like that in Britain. He's sort of like a combination of the Wizengamot, the Head of the Aurors and the Head of the Department of Mysteries. Generally, he's responsible for all the important day-to-day decisions."

"Like who to toss into prison?" offered Harry.

"Yes, I suppose that could be one of his decisions."

"And just what are we supposed to be doing, other than convincing him not to lock us all into the nearest cell?"

"Oh, no worries about that," Josef assured them. "I'm sure you'd get individual cells."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Enough jokes."

"You are here to petition the magistrate to give you permission to visit a restricted island in the Black Sea, just a half-day's sail from Varna."

Harry immediately understood the purpose, but it didn't decrease the annoyance he felt in being manipulated as he was. "What exactly am I supposed to give for a reason?" he asked. "I can't tell him the real reason."

"It worked for Wilhelm Reichebaum," Josef argued.

Almost immediately Harry remembered the name from the book in Ginny's office where he first read about the cursed island. "Reichebaum failed. He's lucky if he's dead. Why would they let it happen again, especially when they suspect that I'm the one trying to destroy all the Veils?"

Josef shrugged. "I can't think of everything, Harry," he said lightly. "You used to say you liked thinking on your feet. You just have to view this as a challenge."

"This isn't a challenge," growled Harry. "This is being dragged underwater and told to breathe!"

"A feat I believe you have accomplished," Josef replied with a smile. Seeing Harry's growing anger, he walked closer and spoke as reassuringly as he could: "Listen to me, Harry. I know you are capable of this. I can't do it. They would never even hear my petition, but you are _Harry Potter_. They have to at least listen to what you have to say. This magistrate, he is a politician. He is nothing more than a spineless bureaucrat picked for the job because he was friends with the Minister's son. Don't back down and I'm confident we'll be successful."

Harry frowned and looked around at the others who appeared just as doubtful as he felt. "You're certain this is the best course of action? There's no other way?"

"The island is protected, Harry. The Bulgarians don't want any more people going there. This is the only way. I have faith in you, but there is one more thing," Josef added smoothly. "It seems that news of your arrival and upcoming appearance has spread through the city and quite an audience is forming. I'm afraid that your friends' attire is hardly appropriate for such an event."

"You didn't tell us to bring dress robes!" Harry shot back, annoyed with yet another omission.

"No, you're right, I did not, but it was only to save you the trouble of getting your dress robes," Josef tried to explain. "This is not a ball and it is of the utmost importance that you make the very best impression. I spent the night studying the latest fashions. Some quick transfiguration of your current robes should be all that is needed."

Harry let out a disgusted sigh and turned toward the others. None of them seemed terribly happy about the idea, but one by one, they all nodded resignedly.

Josef drew his wand and walked over toward Ron, who looked rather uncomfortable with the idea. "I'm really rather good at this, Ron," Josef assured him. "Just ask Harry. Transfiguration has been a talent of mine since I was quite young. I think you'll be pleased with the result."

Nonetheless, Ron shut his eyes tightly as though he expected to burst into flames at any moment. Josef made a wide looping movement with his wand, ending with a jab directly toward Ron's chest. A burst of blue sparks shot out of the end of his wand, crossed the short distance to Ron and crackled across Ron's utilitarian black robes. The dark fabric bunched and folded, twisting and flipping itself into new shapes.

When it all ended, Ron's eyes blinked open and he stared down at his robes. "Bloody hell," he cried. "How'd you do that?" Ron's old robes, plain, poorly fitted and somewhat worn, had become sleek and flattering. The dull fabric now had a faint sheen accented by glittering gold embroidery.

After seeing this stunning success, Simon seemed almost excited for his turn. Another wave of the wand and his robes had become a deep royal blue with a silver collar and matching stripes which flowed down his shoulders and along his arms. Lupin was next and he received a fine set of shimmering grey robes. Josef frowned upon reaching Justinian but said nothing. Seconds later, his robes were turned to a rich brown, presentable, yet far from impressive. Justinian accepted this without complaint and simply turned to walk back toward the rest of the group.

With all of the wizards done, Josef took a moment to look over Valencia, Hermione, Tonks and Ginny. After a moment of thinking he called Valencia forward. Taking a bit more time and a few more flips of his wand, her robes quickly rearranged themselves. When he was finished, Valencia looked down at her robes. They were now the darkest black, the only color coming from a pair of crimson sashes which came over her shoulders and met at a single point at the top of her shimmering black bodice. She looked up a second later to glare dangerously at Josef. The room fell silent as if everyone was trying to discern just what had upset her.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she whispered.

"I think you look amazing," Justinian offered from the far corner. Valencia's head snapped over to look at him, though now her expression was one of uncertainty.

"They really are quite nice," agreed Lupin and though this calmed Valencia almost instantly, it left Tonks seething.

Ginny was next and though she told Josef that she was looking forward to it, Harry could see the reluctance in her eyes. Again, Josef went to work, taking even longer than he had with Valencia. With a final shower of blue sparks, it was all over, leaving Ginny standing in her new robes. She quickly let out a gasp and stood frozen by shock. Her robes were now a dazzling, lustrous white and quite a bit smaller than they had been. The long, open sleeves of her old robes were gone entirely along with any fabric which had covered her shoulders and back. Pressing one hand to her chest, she stared down at the rest of her robes. It was long and elegant, yet striking and daring. Lifting one foot, the soft material fell away, exposing her leg up to her thigh. She quickly looked up and began blushing violently.

"You don't like it?" Josef asked, sounding almost hurt.

"I— I—" stammered Ginny as she tried to compose herself. "It's... beautiful," she said in a weak voice, "but isn't it a little... er... "

"Dramatic?" Josef suggested. "Yes, perhaps, but you have a reputation here. There are many officials here who still remember you from your actions at Giza and Bremen. They believe you are strong-willed and confident. You must show them they are correct."

Ginny looked over at Harry, who nodded and gave her a warm smile. She smiled back at him. "I— I'll need... some different shoes," she mumbled. She walked over toward Harry, putting him between herself and the rest of the group as she pulled her wand and began whispering spells down toward her feet.

Harry was too preoccupied by the sight of Ginny in her robes to notice that Josef had moved on to Hermione. Seeing the flash of the spell, he quickly turned just in time to see the sparks falling to the floor. It took only a second for Hermione to look down before she let out a frightened cry and turned away from Josef. In that brief second Harry had caught only a glimpse of her new robes, but it had been more than enough.

They were sapphire blue, made of fitted satin with silver. Her black gloves remained, stretching up past her elbows and stopping in the middle of her upper arm. The cause of Hermione's scream and the icy horror Harry felt on seeing her came from the space between her gloves and the sparkling strap of her robes. Long, sickly streaks of dark grey could be seen winding their way up her arm and over her shoulder.

The room was silent, reeling from the meaning of what they'd just seen. Tonks rushed to Hermione's side, but she pushed her away, quickly covering her shoulder with her right hand. Ron brought her a cloak which she immediately took and began to drape over herself.

"Stand up, Hermione," Josef said in a firm voice. She pulled the cloak tight around her and glared at him as if he'd attacked her.

"Stand up and take off the cloak, Hermione," he repeated.

"Who are you to order her around?" snapped Ron. "I think you've done enough!"

"No, Ron, I haven't," Josef continued softly. "Let me fix it. Please. You have nothing to fear from me, Hermione. I did not know it was so bad, but I do now. There is no need to hide it from us anymore. You are surrounded by friends."

The even tone of his voice seemed to calm both Ron and Hermione. She slowly stood up and began to take off the cloak. Ron tried to stop her, but with a look from Hermione, he relented and walked few steps away. She dropped the cloak to the floor and stared up at the ceiling, blinking her eyes in an attempt to keep herself from crying. Behind him, Harry heard Ginny gasp. Taking one last moment to inspect it, he could see that it was even worse than Ron had suggested. The farthest tendril had reached her collarbone.

Josef turned and saw Harry and for a moment their eyes met and they agreed on the seriousness of the situation. Josef turned back to Hermione and without a word, swirled his wand again. The robes shimmered and seemed to become liquid, flowing up her chest and neck, then across her shoulders and down her arms. When it was over, Hermione took one quick look down, and gave Josef a simple nod of thanks. She then turned and walked away without a word.

With a sober expression, he extended his wand toward Tonks. She simply shook her head and held out a hand to stop him. "I can handle it," she told him.

Accepting this without any apparent offense, he simply nodded in return. "Something bold," he said in a soft voice. "You are a special witch. Make certain everyone knows that."

She pulled out her wand and nodded. "I understand."

Josef pulled a watch from his pocket and checked the time. With a sigh he slipped it back into his pocket and walked over toward Harry. "It is just as well," he whispered. "You need to be getting to your hearing. Go back to the main corridor and simply continue to the very end. If you are afraid of getting lost, just follow the crowd."

"Hold on, what about me?" objected Harry.

"You look just fine, Harry," Josef replied distractedly as he pulled a wand out of one pocket, replaced it and then pulled a second wand out of another.

Harry wasn't feeling fine. "Everyone else is dressed like they are going to a coronation. I'm wearing heavy boots and a Shield Cloak. These robes are good for staying warm on February mornings, not for petitioning foreign ministries. If you don't fix them, I will."

"No!" Josef said, turning quickly. "No, Harry, I beg you. First: You are not unknown to the Bulgarians. You are recognized as a powerful wizard and an accomplished warrior. You should present yourself as one. You will get more respect for that than any set of robes I might fashion for you. And second: Harry, I respect you and care for you like a brother, but you're horrible at transfiguring clothes. You've gotten better, but I wouldn't trust you to do much more than changing their color. I think we'll do much better having you looking like a wayward traveler than a court jester."

Harry leaned closer to Josef. "Tell me, honestly," he whispered. "You have another plan, right? You've got some other idea if this one fails? You always have another plan."

"Not this time, Harry," Josef answered soberly. "I do not think we will get a second chance at this, but I do not think we will need one. I know you, Harry. I know you can do this. I know you will succeed."

"You're certain this will work?" Harry asked him.

"It has to work, Harry."

"What if he won't listen to us?"

Josef gave him a crooked smile. "Just be yourself, Harry. I'm confident everything will turn out alright."

Josef walked to the door, opened it and checked the passage quickly. Stepping back into the room, he leaned close to Harry and lowered his voice so that Harry could barely hear it.

"We will need to speak about Hermione," he said heavily. "You knew it would be necessary sooner or later. We can't put it off much longer."

"After the hearing?" Harry replied.

Josef should his head slightly. "No, I doubt we will have the time. If things go well, we may have some time to discuss such matters tonight."

* * *

Following Josef's suggestion, Harry led everyone back to the corridor and joined the crowd which seemed to be making its way toward some large hall at the far end. Their presence seemed to interest the other witches and wizards around them and they began whispering in a language Harry couldn't understand and walking faster to get ahead of the group of them. 

"What do you suppose they are saying?" Ron asked.

"They're saying that they hope to get good seats," Valencia translated from the back of the group. "It seems they expect this to be entertaining."

A nagging worry poked at Harry's ribs, but it was chased away by the sight of a pair of hooded guards with severe expressions. Between them was a large door, but it was shut tightly and no one in crowd made any move toward it. Instead, they parted just before the guards turning to walk down a pair of narrow corridors to either side.

As Harry stopped between the two corridors, he realized that the guards were staring at him. Before he could decide what to do, one of them stepped forward.

"The Chief Magistrate is waiting, Mr. Potter," he announced with a thick Slavic accent. "Follow me."

"What about my friends?"

"What about them?" he replied gruffly. "A petition was made. It will be addressed by the Chief Magistrate. Every witch or wizard who submits a petition to the magistrate must present themselves."

"Er, alright, but—" stammered Harry, unsure of just how to ask such a foolish question, "—how many of us will the Chief Magistrate want to speak to?"

The guard raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "All of you, Mr. Potter. Now come quickly. The magistrate is not pleased with the audience you have drawn."

Harry felt rather annoyed that he was being blamed for the number of people who showed up, but the guards gave him no time to complain. The large door opened with a heavy grinding noise and within seconds he found himself walking down the center isle of a large circular chamber which looked more than a little like a theater.

The crowd which had led them to the chamber was seated in a large balcony which wrapped almost entirely around the room. The seats on the floor were filled with much more official looking spectators, many of which were watching Harry with some interest.

The guards leading them came to a halt and parted, leaving Harry and the others standing at the foot of a raised platform. Sitting atop the platform was an enormous bench made of black marble. The man behind it, assumed Harry, must be the Chief Magistrate.

The magistrate was not a young wizard. He was certainly older than Lupin, yet not nearly as old as Albus Dumbledore had been when Harry first met him. He had a stretched, gaunt appearance with small, dark eyes and a long chin. Seeing Harry walking toward him, his lips tightened into a faint frown and his hands shuffled through a stack of portfolios until they had pulled out a long piece of parchment. Taking a cue from the guards, Harry stopped about ten feet from the magistrate, causing a wave of murmurs from the crowd.

Raising his hand, the magistrate barked out a word Harry couldn't comprehend. He must have been the only one, though, as all but the faintest whisper of a voice ceased almost instantaneously.

The magistrate cleared his throat. "Since, no doubt, you have never taken the time to learn our language, I will be proceeding in yours," he said in a sour tone. "Do not take this as a sign of concession."

Not knowing what else to say, Harry nodded.

"Mr. Harry Potter, you and your associates have submitted a petition to this office, have you not?" he asked stiffly. Harry quickly agreed, trying to match the magistrates authoritative tone. "And could you elaborate on the reason for this petition?"

Harry had been prepared for this. "There is an island off the coast of Varna. I need to go to the castle there. It is urgent and undeniable."

"Undeniable?" the magistrate replied, as though the word tasted bad. "Your destination is well known to me, Mr. Potter. Your purpose there is not. Travel to the island is strictly prohibited and I will not turn aside centuries of vigilance and policy simply because you have some urgent desire to practice your skill with a wand. Speak your purpose or leave this chamber at once."

Harry stood up a little straighter, remembering what Josef had told him. He had to be firm. "We came here to declare our intention to go to the island. Our business there is our own."

The magistrate gave him a curious look. "If that were true, then you would have no reason to be here at all. You would have gone to the castle, conducted whatever... business you believe you have, and troubled me —and the world— no more." He paused to look at Harry with bland disapproval. "Yet, here you are."

"We are going to the castle," Harry persisted. "If you truly care for your own safety, you won't stand in our way."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, I'm simply telling you the truth," Harry continued. "We need to get to that castle. I cannot explain why. I can only say that you are in more danger than you realize."

"And yet I feel that conceding to your demands would do nothing at all to change that."

Harry reminded himself of what Josef had told him. He needed to show the magistrate that he was the one in control. "I cannot promise you that it will, only that if you do not help us, then I am certain many people will die. If you're lucky it may only be a few, but it will only be a matter of time. If we fail, then there is no hope at all."

The magistrate nodded thoughtfully. "You paint a very dire picture, Mr. Potter. If such a thing is true, then someone clearly must do something, but I'm afraid we cannot all be men of action like you are. The best anyone like me could really do is to find some way to make things a little easier on you. And yet," he said with a frown, "I find it difficult to believe you and even more difficult to put so much trust in someone with the arrogance to claim that he can protect Bulgaria better than the Bulgarians and the impudence to openly insult me and my countrymen."

"I am here to help you," Harry insisted. "We cannot fight this alone. Neither can you. I did not mean this as an insult."

"I find your presence insulting, Mr. Potter," the magistrate shot back. "I have heard reports of your accomplishments. I cannot deny they are impressive. I also heard reports of your more recent travels. I have a strong reason to believe that you were in Romania while Orasul-de-jos was burning. It's even possible that you were responsible. I, however, was ready to let you explain and then you do this," he said, waving a hand in disgust.

"What did you expect? Walking in here dressed like aristocracy! Did you think that we would bow before you?" he asked bitterly. "Or did you think that we'd trust your followers just because they looked wealthy? Did you think we'd forget what they are?"

He began flipping through parchment, finally stopping and pulling out an especially long one. "Hermione Granger," he read aloud, "is a covert worker for the British Department of Mysteries. She's been in quite a few countries over the past two years, including Albania and —not surprisingly— Romania. Simon Weller: an Auror stationed at Hogwarts, Mr. Potter's second home. Nymphadora Tonks: another Auror and an obvious Metamorphmagus. Remus Lupin: a professor at Hogwarts, target of an infatuation by Miss Tonks and confirmed werewolf."

Harry winced as cries of fear rang out from the crowd.

"I only wish that was the worst of it," the magistrate commented before turning back to his list. "Justinian Lynch: yet another professor at Hogwarts, and one of the youngest ever. He too is well-traveled, taking particular interest in venomous creatures. One wonders how the students learn anything with professors who leave so often. The Hogwarts Librarian: romantic interest of Mr. Lupin, she has recently taken to using the false surname 'Desmoda', most famously shared by a family of dark wizards in Spain. Her true identity is something of a mystery, leaving one to wonder just what she is trying to hide. Ronald Weasley," he announced loudly, taking a moment to look up at Ron. "—Mr. Potter's closest friend, brother to a curse breaker for Gringotts and a wizard allegedly linked to an intentional dragon attack which killed dozens of wizards. Mr. Weasley, himself, does... nothing at all, suggesting even more troubling mysteries."

"And finally, Miss Ginevra Weasley," he said glaring at Ginny. "Sister to Ronald and a British Ministry employee who worked for the French at the bidding of _both_ recently deceased Romanian Ministers, only to betray all of them for no apparent gain. Though utterly faithless, she acts as a willing paramour to Mr. Potter." He peered down at Ginny disapprovingly. "While it takes precious little imagination to see what he desires in this arrangement, it is still unknown if her motives are based on actual affection, desire for fame and fortune, or something even more sinister." At this, Ginny let out a shocked gasp.

"And then we come to you, Mr. Potter," the magistrate continued. "Unlike your friends, you choose not to flaunt your wealth, relying instead on your fame to excuse you the need to dress in a vaguely respectful manner. While those robes might suit you well for storming gatehouses and destroying ancient citadels, by custom the witches and wizards of Bulgaria expect something more presentable for formal hearing."

Taken quite off balance, Harry struggled to think of a response. "We didn't come here to convince you to like us," he said in a controlled tone, "we came to prevent a catastrophe. I'm not asking for your friendship, only your cooperation."

"How are we supposed to cooperate with such a group of liars, traitors, monsters and Ministry agents? How am I supposed to convince myself that the reports were overly critical, when everything you have said and done speaks of arrogance and deceit?"

"You are wrong," Harry growled. "We are here to protect you. You're making a mistake."

"A wizard in my position must live with the knowledge that mistakes will be made," the magistrate said with a mocking voice. "My first mistake regarding you may well have been my decision not to have you thrown in prison last night when I was first told of your arrival. However, I have always considered myself a man of principle and no matter what you might have done in your past, I would be slow to condemn you for crimes which I cannot prove. I wanted to see you for myself. I met Albus Dumbledore long ago, and I know that he held you in the greatest esteem. You are said to be an honest wizard. Is that true?"

"It is," Harry replied slowly, "when honesty is needed."

The magistrate peered down at Harry. "It is, if you intend to find Golakhov Castle," the magistrate replied sharply as he peered down at Harry. "So, tell me, Mr. Potter, how are you acquainted with Mr. Werner Ruthwen?"

"Ruthwen?" Harry repeated, searching his memory. "I've never heard the name before. Whoever it is, I have not met him."

"I see," the magistrate replied with a frown. "Mr. Ruthwen," he called out, "would you step forward, please?"

Harry turned to his left and saw a dark haired man wearing maroon robes walking through the line of guards. Though he didn't recognize the man's severe, angular features, he couldn't ignore a strange feeling of familiarity with him. As he came to a stop some distance away, he bowed stiffly toward the magistrate.

"Mr. Ruthwen, should I be surprised that you decided to attend this hearing?"

"No, Chief Magistrate," the man replied in a slow, deep voice. "I suspected that my presence might be of some value to you."

"Of course. That's very noble of you. So if I were to ask you a few questions, you would answer them truthfully, yes?"

"I submit to your will, Chief Magistrate," the man replied, bowing again, "as I always have."

"Yes, yes, you've always been quite helpful, haven't you. Well, it's time for you to show your character. Do you know of Mr. Potter?"

"Certainly," he replied. "I have an old family home in Britain. Mr. Potter's fame is unavoidable there."

"And have you met Mr. Potter before?" the magistrate asked a little more pointedly. "Have you spoken with Mr. Potter?"

At this question, a smile spread slowly across Mr. Ruthwen's face. "Yes, we have spoken on many occasions."

Harry opened his mouth to speak out, but at that instant, he felt a small hand grip his elbow. Looking quickly over his shoulder, he saw Ginny was almost paralyzed by fear. Her face was deathly pale, her jaw was trembling and her eyes were opened wide, unblinking as they stared back over Harry's shoulder at Mr. Ruthwen.

Cold fear spread through Harry's body. His head snapped around to find the mysterious wizard staring back at Ginny with a peculiar expression. Even as his mind began to ask the question, he felt the answer rushing toward him. Ruthwen's gaze shifted to Harry, pain exploded through his scar. Clenching his teeth to hide his agony, he saw a brief flash of green in Ruthwen's eyes.

"It seems that the two of you do know each other then," the magistrate observed, obviously taking Harry's reaction to the pain as anger. "We will start again, Mr. Potter, shall we? Why do you need to go to Golakhov Castle?"

Harry ignored the question, realizing that all of his plans were falling apart faster than he could make new ones. The cloaked wizard was standing no more than twenty feet away. His mind was a whirlwind of confused thoughts. _What was the cloaked wizard doing there? Why hadn't he attacked anyone?_ Then Harry remembered the report Evelyn had given them. Ruthwen was obviously the wizard who had been submitting the petitions, yet, this only caused new questions: _Why not simply posses or kill the magistrate? Why even waste his time coming to Sofia?_

Only one explanation presented itself: Like Harry and everyone else, the cloaked wizard was unable to get to the island. The idea was not impossible to fathom. Harry remembered the book saying that Golakhov had cursed the island. It made sense that the Bulgarians would search for some way to keep wizards and Muggles from stumbling into the deadly trap. Whatever they had done must have kept the cloaked wizard from going there as well. There was hope.

"You need to listen to me," he urged the magistrate. "You are in grave danger —you and everyone in the city. I _must_ talk with you in private _right now_."

"If you have something to say, Mr. Potter, you will say it here."

Harry decided it was time to try something else. "This is a matter between ministry officials. It should not be addressed in public."

"Then your Ministry should have spoken directly to us, rather than trying to sneak past us with concocted tales and heavy handed demands. Of course, if your story is true, then it will be easy to verify. I have worked with the British Ministry many times. Rufus Scrimgeour will remember me." The magistrate stood up and motioned to the guards. "You will stay here while I confirm your story."

"I can save you the trouble," a voice called out from the audience. Harry instinctually reached for his wand, stopping himself as he saw a guard stopping a white-haired wizard who had just stepped forward.

"Potter was not sent by the Minister, and he does not have the authority to represent the British Ministry," he said loudly, "but I do."

This new interruption seemed to annoy the magistrate even more. "And who might you be? Announce yourself before I have you escorted from this chamber!"

"I am Auguste Reynard, Head of the Department of Mysteries in the British Ministry of Magic," he said proudly. "I have submitted a petition of my own—"

"—Which was scheduled for examination tomorrow," the magistrate finished. "Why have you come here today to interrupt these proceedings?"

The guard did not stop him as he stepped forward to speak to the magistrate. "Because, Chief Magistrate, the outcome of this hearing may render my scheduled hearing tomorrow not only a waste of my time, but a waste of yours and the Bulgarian people's. I only wish to be as efficient as possible about this business."

"And what do you propose, then? You wish me to grant you sole permission?"

"On the contrary, you, sir, were quite correct when you spoke earlier. Wizards like you and I are not men of action. Mr. Potter and his... friends are. Grant their request, but require an official overseer. Your duties require you to be here. Your people need you. I have no such restriction. This is just the sort of thing I was appointed to manage. Let me go in your place. The British Ministry will apologize for our failure to properly notify you and they will reward your understanding," he added with a faint smile.

The magistrate gazed thoughtfully at him. "This is not what your petition requested."

"No, indeed it is not," Reynard said in an almost apologetic tone.

"This is a trick, Chief Magistrate," cautioned Ruthwen, whose eyes had scarcely left Ginny during the entire conversation. "I fear Mr. Potter and Mr. Reynard have scripted this drama to convince you to trust people you would not normally trust."

"And why should he trust _you_" snapped Reynard, losing his composure briefly. After taking a breath, he continued in a calmer voice. "I have made a career of studying strong, unexplained magic. This castle is of great interest to me. That is my purpose. What is yours? Whom do you serve? What authority do you wield?"

Suddenly, Ruthwen's eyes shifted to stare at Reynard and Harry feared an attack was imminent.

"Authority?" he snarled. "Whatever authority you have was stolen or taken by force. You have no more interest in studying magic than a fisherman has in the proper care of fish. You wish it to appear that you and Potter will create an alliance, yet it seems your true desires were quite the opposite. Why was your petition filed a day after Potter's when one of the mistresses he brought with him is one of your employees?"

Reynard did not reply and appeared as though he would have happily ignored the question and continued his argument had the magistrate not stopped him. Forced to respond, Reynard affected a smile though it was twisted by anger. "It seems there was a mistake in communication," he said, glaring sternly at Hermione. "It will be remedied, I assure you." Turning back to the magistrate, he forced himself to smile again. "I apologize for the confusion. You must understand—"

"Yes, all too well, I'm afraid," the older wizard replied.

"There is much you do not know," Reynard continued, sounding a little more desperate. "Allow me an hour of your time and I will see that everything is made clear to you."

"It is clear to me, now," the magistrate boomed. "I have heard enough. All interests here are self-serving. I am not naive, Mr. Reynard," he said, glaring at the white haired wizard, "nor am I blinded by stories of your greatness, Mr. Potter. Of the lot of you, only Mr. Ruthwen has shown any semblance of tact, and yet, I sense his calculating persistence may be little more than a costume he has chosen to wear for the moment.

"You are all quite insistent on going to Golakhov Castle, but very reluctant to explain exactly _why_. This reeks of dishonesty and I am not the sort of wizard to suffer the presence of liars."

Harry took a step forward. "You don't understand. The situation is serious. You must—"

"You are quite right, Mr. Potter. In fact, I think it may be the closest you've gotten to the truth all day. I do not understand the situation," the magistrate interrupted. "and that is all I need to know to address your petition. It is _denied_."

"No, you—"

"I have _spoken!_" roared the magistrate.

Reynard took this moment to step forward. "Sir, if I might—"

"_You may not!_"

Undeterred, Reynard continued. "I, too, have a petition. Mine is—"

"—Denied as well." The magistrate rose glaring at all of them. "I have been charged with maintaining order and safety for all magical folk and creatures in Bulgaria. I have no mandate to listen to your petition." Raising his voice, he shouted across the chamber: "Summon the Captain of the Guard! See that none of our guests attempt to leave."

Harry felt a bolt of panic hit him and he spun around to look at his friends, finding Ginny returning his worried expression. As the call spread through the chamber, a number of guards came running toward the stone bench.

"What's happening, Harry?" Ron asked under his breath.

"I don't believe you have anything to worry about," Valencia commented.

With a covert gesture, she directed Harry's attention to Ruthwen. He showed no interest in the guards and looked rather bored with the entire situation. Even as Harry watched him, trying to figure out just what his purpose or plan might be, Ruthwen turned slowly. Instead of stopping at Harry, his gaze fell again on Ginny and remained there as his jaw clenched with an emotion Harry couldn't quite identify.

A tall wizard wearing a crimson robe strode up the aisle, distracting Harry. He continued past Harry and Ginny without so much as a break in his step. Seeing the guard approach, the magistrate snatched a roll of parchment and quill of the bench and furiously scratched out some sort of short message. Folding it twice, he handed it to the captain and barked a few commands before sending him off.

"I have seen and heard enough," the magistrate said once the door had closed behind the captain. "I have no desire —or need— to unravel the lies you have wrapped yourselves in. There is something which you all seek, but I find nothing wholesome in your requests and so I have ensured that none of you will ever get what you have attempted to take by fraud and deception. Indeed, this episode has shown me that Golakhov knew well what he was doing when he created the charms protecting his castle."

Leaning forward, he frowned and stared down at one particular scroll. "We knew we were wrong to allow Reichebaum to travel to the island. We didn't know enough, it seems. It is clear that Golakhov wished no wizard to set foot in his castle, yet we foolishly ignored those wishes." He looked up at Harry. "By my actions, I have guaranteed that mistake will never happen again. You will not go to Golakhov Castle, Mr. Potter. Nor will Mr. Reynard or Mr. Ruthwen. No one will."

Harry heard a harsh hiss and turned quickly, expecting to see the wizard calling himself Ruthwen seething with anger and ready to attack. Instead, it was Reynard who had lost control of his fury. Shooting a murderous look at Hermione, he turned to leave.

"Auguste Reynard!" the magistrate shouted. "You will not leave until I allow it."

Reynard stared at him as if he had been slapped. "You cannot hold me," he called out over the murmurs of the crowd, "I am a representative of the British Ministry of Magic and came here on the direct orders of—"

"You are not being imprisoned," the magistrate interrupted. "You are being held. You have more than proven yourself worthy of my distrust, so much so that I feel it unwise to allow you to leave without guards to escort you."

Harry and the others waited in uncomfortable silence for longer than Harry could easily guess. The magistrate said nothing and did nothing. He simply sat where he was, staring at the collection of witches and wizards in front of him while they tried to ignore the whispering of the crowd around them.

A faint creek announced the return of a group of guards. With little more than a nod from the Chief Magistrate, the guards formed a pair of columns and firmly led everyone from the chamber. Leading the group was the mysterious Mr. Ruthwen and Harry. Despite the way the hearing had ended, Ruthwen looked far from upset. Beside him, stabbing pain kept Harry from showing just how upset he was.

The stern procession continued all the way to the gate where they had met Josef less than an hour before. The guards ushered every last one of them through the large archway and then remained there, barring entry to anyone on the outside while urging the crowd of spectators behind them to leave in an orderly manner.

Once on the other side of the gate, Harry reached for his wand, prepared to defend himself and his friends against whatever attack the impostor named Ruthwen might unleash.

"Feeling a little paranoid, Harry?" the wizard said with a crooked smile. "Were you planning to attack me here?" he asked, holding out his arms to the crowded street around them. "Think of all the innocent lives which might end in the ensuing chaos. It's not like you, Harry. One might think you were going mad." He paused, then leaned in a little closer. "Or are you?"

Harry tried to respond, but the moment he opened his mouth, searing pain shot through his forehead. "Headache, Harry?" the wizard asked mockingly. "You know, I could fix that for you," he offered as he reached into the side pocket of his robes. Harry twitched, raising his wand and preparing to strike. The wizard let out a hissing laugh. "Careful, Harry. Do not mar your little victory by making me hurt any of your friends." Instead of a wand, he pulled a long, dark cloak from his pocket and quickly wrapped it around his shoulders. It was the same, tattered and worn cloak that Harry had seen many times before.

"What do you want?" Harry growled.

The wizard's smile disappeared immediately. "You know what I want," he snarled in reply, green flames playing behind his eyes. "I could ask, but we both know what your answer would be, so what is the point?" Pulling his hood up over his head, the wizard's features seemed to blur and shift until he was no longer Werner Ruthwen. "I still have many things to do," he announced in a darker tone, "but, sadly, none of them are here. I must go." Taking a step toward Ginny, he bowed politely, though there was nothing courteous in the way he glared at her. "Good day, Ginevra. It was a pleasure seeing you again. I look forward to our next encounter." Then he turned and quickly walked off into the crowd.

Anger flared in Harry's chest. "Do you honestly think that I trust you to just walk away?" he called out.

"Nothing to gain, here, Potter," he said over his shoulder. "There never was, you see. I came here for pleasure, not business."

Harry wanted to respond. He wanted to hex him or hit him or throw something at him, but for once, his better judgment restrained him.

"Why did he do that?" Ron whispered. "He destroyed an entire bloody city. What does he care about anyone here?"

Harry didn't have any answers and neither did anyone else. The plan had failed utterly. Harry didn't know what to do, Josef was nowhere to be found and Ginny was quite obviously shaken by what had just happened. Not knowing what else could be done, Harry began leading the group back to the inn where they had stayed the night before. They moved quickly, but not nearly as quickly as the news about the hearing. As they entered the inn, a dozen conversations came to an abrupt halt as everyone turned to stare at them.

"Mr. Harker?" the barkeep called out, motioning for Harry to approach him. A dozen questioning whispers filled the small room.

"You know that's not my name," he said as he walked up to the bar.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," the man said with a nod. "I was told that Mr. Harker had a visitor —a Mr. Karnstein. He's in the small parlour."

Leading the large group toward the door, Harry quickly pushed it open and walked toward the fireplace to find Josef lounging in a large leather chair as he turned the pages of an old book about dragons.

"Your plan failed," snarled Harry. "Your advice was wrong in every way. Your transfigured robes were a horrible mistake. They knew Lupin was a werewolf, they knew Charlie was involved with that dragon attack and they accused Valencia of being a dark witch. In short, every single thing you did was rubbish."

Josef simply sat silently, waiting for Harry to finish. Once he had, he looked up from his book and gave them all a lopsided smile. "On the contrary, Harry," he said softly, "my plan worked brilliantly. I didn't know if Reynard would have time to send someone this morning. I never expected he would come personally."

"You— You told him—" sputtered Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said. "You've learned quite a bit since our lessons together. I couldn't risk you succeeding." While Harry and the others gaped at him, he reached over the side of the chair and picked up a small box-like object covered in simple black cloth.

Harry stared at it in confusion. "And what is that?"

"To be honest, I have no idea," Josef said, smiling and holding it up as though it were some sort of trophy, "but the Chief Magistrate sent the Captain of the Guard to destroy it before you left the chamber."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Josef had used him as a diversion. No one in the chamber had really known just what would be done if their petition was granted. Seeing the bag in Josef's hand, it became quite obvious that it was some sort of key or device that would allow them to safely reach the island. Josef had wanted Harry to create such a scene that the magistrate would be convinced to either move the thing to a safer place or simply destroy it out of fear of it falling into the wrong hands.

Josef refused to answer any questions about the mysterious object and instead insisted that they all leave as quickly as possible. Emphasizing both speed and secrecy, he laid out the next step of his plan. The group was supposed to break up into pairs and individuals and make their way to either Istanbul or Bucharest. From there, they would slowly return to a small wizarding village just north of Varna via an unwatched fireplace in an old run down pub named _Bachev's By the Sea_.

"You will leave through the back door of _Bachev's_ and follow the dirt path. After a little over a mile, you'll find a sheltered cove with three piers lined with wizarding boats. Go to the one farthest to the right and look for the schooner _Demeter_. Board and go below deck immediately." He spoke quickly and Harry could see that he wasn't the only one struggling to remember all the details.

"And no one is going to notice all this?" Ron asked skeptically. "We were just kicked out of the Ministry for asking to go to an island near Varna. Couldn't we at least pick a port a little farther away?"

"There's no time," Josef replied simply. "This plan is not without risk, but it's the best we've got. If we all show up at the same time, there isn't much hope. If we spread ourselves out, we shouldn't have any problems. On that topic," he continued, "I would feel better if Hermione was the first there. She's been trained by the Brotherhood and the Ministry. Perhaps Remus should go with her." Ron attempted to protest, but Josef deflected it. "You may go next, Ron. Take Justinian with you."

He continued on, separating them. Valencia was next, then Tonks and Simon. "Then you, Harry," Josef said in an even tone. "We will leave with the afternoon tide and you should be there no more than ten minutes early." Harry was quick to notice that he had been picked to arrive alone.

"Ginny's coming with me," he declared.

Josef's looked up at the ceiling in disgust. "No, she's not," he replied just as firmly. "She's staying here. I need her help with a few errands."

"Why Ginny?" Harry asked. "Why not me or Hermione?"

Josef turned to glare pointedly at Harry. "You'd cause too much trouble," he said flatly. He said nothing about Hermione, but Harry didn't need him to explain why. After seeing her arm that morning, he would be wary to use her for anything critically important. "Look, Harry," he said wearily, "I wouldn't put her in danger. Not like this. I need her because with her nearby, I can walk about in relative secrecy. I doubt anyone will be looking at anything else but her."

* * *

Just as Josef had ordered them, the rest of the group filed out of the parlor and, one by one, disappeared into the inn's fireplace, leaving Ginny alone with Josef. Without the others, she quickly began to feel conspicuously overdressed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried to pretend that she wasn't horribly worried. 

"Relax, Ginny," Josef said in an attempt to comfort her. "We're not going to be doing anything dangerous —at least, you're not," he corrected himself. "I would guess the Bulgarians would be unhappy if they knew I had this, but I doubt they will think to look for it here."

"So, what are we doing?" she asked.

"We're going shopping," he said cheerily.

"For what?"

"We'll see. I would say that a few large books would work nicely. Three of them bound together and hollowed out should be able to hide this. After that, it's up to you, I suppose." He paused a moment to think. "A new nightgown, some shoes, maybe even some sweets would suffice. We just need enough to embarrass anyone who wants to search your bag. Beyond that, all you need to do is walk around proudly and look as beautiful as you can."

To Ginny, this was hardly better than the thought of having dark wizards chasing her. At least she had a chance to escape dark wizards. To walk around purposefully drawing attention to herself in the robes she was wearing was not the sort of thing she'd ever done before. However, the memory of the cloaked wizard was fresh in her mind and she knew that they needed to do whatever it took to find out how to stop him. If Harry thought the island held any answers, she'd do her part.

Of course, it was easier to tell herself that than it was to actually follow through. Josef walked ahead of her, but he might as well have been wearing an invisibility cloak. No one seemed to look at him for more than an instant before turning their eyes to Ginny. She wanted to walk back to the inn or even the nearest closet.

Their first stop was a bookstore. As they entered, Josef slipped Ginny a handful of gold coins and told her to find three large books that no one in their right mind would ever want to open. He cautioned her to look relaxed, but it was obvious that he was in something of a hurry. Searching the shelves, Ginny picked out three of the worst looking books she could find and brought them to the clerk at the back of the store.

He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to hide the fact that he had been staring at her as she walked up to the counter. When he finally looked away, it was to stare at the stack of books she was buying. At the very top, with a blonde-haired wizard wearing a cloak over his bare chest, was _My Sovereign, My Love_. The clerk stared at it for a few seconds, then looked up at Ginny. She blushed furiously and without speaking a single word, dropped all of the gold coins on the counter and turned away. The clerk quickly bound the books together with a leather cord and slid them toward Ginny.

Moments after leaving the bookstore, Josef led Ginny through a dark alley. Under the cover of shadow, he took the books, unbound them and cut a hollow into their centers large enough to fit the small black bundle he had been carrying under his arm. Binding them back together, he let them dangle casually from his hand as he led Ginny back out into the street.

They continued their shopping, stopping off at a rather fancy looking tailor. Supplied again with gold from Josef, Ginny tried to purchase another set of dress robes, but the shopkeeper refused to sell her anything inferior to the set she was already wearing. Instead, she had to settle for a silk dressing gown and a set of embroidered silk scarves.

And so they spent the rest of the morning, moving from shop to shop, filling a large bag with all manner of frivolous items, including everything from a satin parasol to a whole pint of mild love potion. By the end, Ginny had almost gotten used to the stares and whispers. Still, when Josef led her to a completely different inn and informed her that they were done, she felt a wave of relief.

Leaving a small pouch of gold for the innkeeper, he took her to a small room near the back of the cramped building and checked the hallway before closing the door behind him. The room wasn't luxurious. It had a large bed, a fireplace, and little else. The situation felt rather awkward, enough so that she almost wished she was still shopping. With a chivalrous wave toward the bed, Josef insisted that she sit down. He opted to simply lean against the wall near the door.

Not knowing how much longer they were supposed to wait before making their way to Varna, Ginny decided she would prefer to wait in more comfortable clothes. She casually reached into her small bag and retrieved her wand. After quickly returning the bag to its original size and appearance, she placed it on the floor and turned the wand on her pearly white gown. Seeing her do this, Josef leaped forward.

"No, please," he begged her with a pained expression. "The charm will wear off soon enough, but let it be until then." Ginny froze, at once frightened and moved by his plea. Before she could ask for an explanation, he returned to his spot against the wall and slumped forward. He looked at her with a hollow stare.

"In all my life, I was never given the chance to make something which was simply beautiful —something devoid of deceit or manipulation, made only to bring happiness. I know it was nothing but a picture in my mind and the movement of a wand, but it means more to me than I would have expected." With a sorrowful gaze, he stared down at his own hands. "I know that in an hour, it will be nothing more than a memory, but it's real now. Please," he begged, "just a little longer?"

The sincerity of his request surprised Ginny and she found it impossible to refuse him. She'd never really considered the sacrifices Josef had been forced to make in his life or just how many things she took for granted that he simply never had. Josef had always seen them, of course. He must have. He had spent years lurking in the darkness, watching everyone else go about their lives, and even now that the Brotherhood was gone, he was still doing it. Perhaps it was the only thing he knew how to do.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, sympathy welling up inside her. "I'm sorry for all that you've gone through... for all that you've given up and everything you've done for people who don't even know you exist. You're an amazingly generous wizard."

"Am I?" Josef snorted. "If my actions were selfless, it was only because I had no notion of who or what I was. Everyone else still had a chance to be happy, while I had all but given up. My only satisfaction came from saving as many people as possible from the fate which I couldn't escape."

His mouth stretched into a thin smile. "Then I met Harry," he said with a distant expression. "It was probably the biggest mistake Grigore ever made. Harry and I were too similar. Both of us were orphans, talented beyond our expectations, forced into responsibilities we didn't ask for. I, of course, was raised in a positive —if slightly militant— environment while Harry was forced to live with relatives who despised him. And yet, he was the one who managed to build a life of happiness and contentment, a life I could not have imagined possible."

Ginny sat in complete silence, her curiosity keeping her from doing or saying anything that might have interrupted him.

"He had friends," Josef continued. "He had a mentor —one of the most famous wizards in Europe. He went to school. He played Quidditch. He had found a witch who he cared about and who cared about him. He had allies and even found a family to take him in as one of their own. It hurt to realize that for all the pain he'd gone through, all the distrust, all the accusations and condemnations, and all tragedy, that I— I _envied_ him."

Josef looked into Ginny's eyes with a steady, sober gaze. "For all that I had been given, all the skill and knowledge I'd gathered, it was Harry who had found what I had been searching for. And so I taught him everything that I could, and though he might not have realized it, he taught me that there was still hope. In the end, that was why I couldn't betray him," Josef said, staring at the closed door. "How could I condemn someone who had everything I wanted?"

Ginny tried to covertly wipe a tear from her eye. "He respects you, you know," she said, hoping to encourage him. "He treats you like a brother. You might not be as close to him as Ron, but—" She paused, not knowing just how to describe it. "He didn't come back to Romania because you had saved him. He came back because he really does care about you."

"That is a comforting thought," Josef replied, though his expression was hardening again. "It is a... new experience for me, I'm afraid."

"But, Harry told me—" Ginny began, then paused to wonder if she might be saying too much. The thought was quickly pushed away. Josef had been very honest with her. "Harry told me that he met a girl in Athens. He said she cared quite a bit for you. Is that a new experience as well?"

"I suppose so," Josef answered cautiously. "I have not had much time for such things lately. What else did he say about her?"

"Very little," she answered, feeling a little defensive. It seemed as though this was a topic that Josef hadn't wanted Harry to share with her. "Only that he met her, that she was a talented witch and that she seemed to care quite deeply for you. Do you love her?"

Josef looked away. "I think I'm still trying to find out just what that means."

"Why don't you have her join us?"

"Love, I'm afraid, is a dangerous thing," he said, speaking in an emotionless voice. "It makes poor decisions and takes risks where prudence would serve better. I fear what it might make me do."

"I feel that love makes me stronger," Ginny declared confidently.

"Do you?" he asked quietly. "Do you love Harry?"

"Absolutely."

"What would you give to save Harry's life?"

Ginny didn't even need a second to think about her answer. "I would give anything to save Harry's life," she announced confidently.

Josef's eyes remained cold. "Even your own?"

She stared at him as worry crept up her spine. "Why are you asking me this?"

Josef looked away. "I hope you never have to find out."

Ginny didn't press him for a better explanation. A number of possibilities came to mind, but none of them were encouraging. Josef seemed equally willing to simply let the subject drop. He returned to his spot against the wall and simply stood there, staring down at the floor and managing to look quite busy while doing absolutely nothing.

As she waited, she noticed the fabric of her robes fading to a dingy grey, then, just as suddenly as they'd been created, the elegant white robes were gone and she was once again wearing the plain black robes she'd selected that morning. Josef looked up just long enough to notice but said nothing. Ginny noticed a look of faint sadness in his eyes as they returned to the floor.

After a while the silence became unnerving. "So..." Ginny began hesitantly, "how much longer do we have to wait?"

Josef pulled a small watch from his pocket and inspected it. "Not long," he said without looking up. "I expect Harry should be arriving in Bucharest soon. He probably spent the last couple hours in Vienna or Rome. I don't expect he'd like spending too much time in Romania or Turkey right now. The others should already be waiting at the ship. We should be there in about twenty minutes."

"We're taking this fireplace?"

"No," Josef replied swiftly. "The Bulgarians will have figured out that something mysterious happened this morning. They'll be watching everyone traveling by Floo. I found an old wizard who agreed to help me. This morning, he went to the harbor and created a Portkey for us. He should be delivering it shortly."

Ten minutes later, Ginny heard a sharp knock at the door. Josef turned quickly, opening the door only a few inches at most. Through the gap, Ginny saw a grey-haired man wearing a set of brown robes covered in black ash. Josef quickly passed a small pouch to the man, and in return he handed Josef a crumpled hat. The door closed without either of them speaking a single word.

They spent the next few minutes tidying up the room so that no one could tell that they had been there. When they were done, Josef checked his watch again and called Ginny over to his side.

"The wizard who made this was quite talented with Portkeys once," he said, holding the hat in front of him with one hand. "However, age dulls more than just the senses. Of late, his work has been somewhat... rough. It might be best if you keep a firm hold of both me and the Portkey."

With Josef holding the bag of things they'd purchased in one hand and the hat in the other, Ginny was left with very little choice. With one hand she reached out to clutch at the hat and she wrapped the other tightly around Josef's torso.

"Any moment now," Josef said, sounding somewhat uncertain. Just as Ginny was about to ask if something had gone wrong, she felt something tug violently at her stomach. A second later, they were gone.

* * *

Ginny had expected to arrive at the run down pub just like everyone else, but instead she and Josef landed in a crumpled heap on cool, rocky ground. Josef groaned as Ginny carefully pulled herself off of him. Before picking himself up, he twisted about to check the bag where they had hidden the artifact. Satisfied, he stood up and brushed the dust off his robes. 

"I'm very sorry about that," he said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Ginny wasn't terribly concerned about the rough trip. She was entirely focused on the fact that they had appeared in the middle of a small plot of open ground along a surprisingly busy harbor. Quite a few wizards were nearby, and while no one seemed to be terribly upset by their arrival, they hadn't really managed to appear without drawing some attention to themselves.

"Bloody hell," hissed Josef, "they're still here." As Ginny looked around to see what he'd meant, she spotted a few pairs of wizards wearing vibrant maroon robes walking up and down the piers.

"Put this on," Josef said, pulling a black cloak from the bag they'd brought with them and handing it to her quickly.

"Where did this come from?" Ginny asked, holding it up.

"I slipped it in while you were in the Potions Shop," he said quickly. "I was going to save it for later, but you need it now. Quickly," he urged, "put it on and pull the hood over your head. Red hair is not a common thing in this part of Europe and we must strive to appear as common as possible."

As she put it on and worked on the clasp around her neck, she noticed something distinctly familiar about it. "Is this one of the—"

"Yes, it's one of your brothers' cloaks," he said quietly as he gently directed her to start walking, "—with a few improvements. Since you haven't shown much concern for your safety, I spent some time adding a few more charms. It's a little long on you, but you'll want the deeper hood if you keep needing to hide that hair of yours."

Ginny agreed a minute later as they passed by a pair of the wizards in the maroon uniforms. They looked a lot like the guards from the Chief Magistrate's chamber. Josef gave them a friendly wave and Ginny did the same. They returned a pair of stiff nods and continued on their way.

At the very end of the pier, Ginny could see a proud-looking ship tied to the dock with the name _Demeter_ emblazoned across the back in simple block lettering. There was no sign of anyone on deck and it was still tied firmly to the dock. As they approached it, she realized that it was smaller than it first seemed. While there was plenty of room for ten people, it clearly wasn't the largest ship in the harbor. Looking at the sleek hull and tall masts, she decided that it might be the fastest. Thinking about this and the fact that Josef had stressed that they were to be as secretive as possible, a more disturbing thought came to her."

"We're not... stealing it, are we?" she asked quietly.

"Not at all," Josef answered. "I bought it."

"You bought a ship?" Ginny replied. "You only found out we were coming here last night."

"The Brotherhood might be gone," he said with a smile, "but their gold is not. Who do you think was buying all the things in this bag?"

* * *

Hearing footsteps on the deck above him, Harry carefully climbed the steep ladder to investigate the new arrivals. Seeing Josef and Ginny, he quickly climbed up on deck and walked over to them. Neither of them seemed to care about the fact that wizards from the Bulgarian Ministry had been patrolling the shore. 

Josef walked immediately to the wheel at the back of the ship. He hung the bag he'd been carrying from a large iron cleat on a nearby post, pulled his wand from a pocket and began pointing it at various robes and bundles of fabric around the ship. When Harry asked what he was doing, he only got an impatient look and instructions to find someplace else to stand.

As sails unfolded and poles swung into place around the ship, Valencia emerged from below. Still glowering at Josef from under her cloak, she pulled out her own wand and began raising a pair of small triangular sails at the bow of the ship.

"What are you doing?" Josef barked. "We don't need both of them! I don't have time for this. If you don't know what you're doing, stand aside!"

"I assure you," she replied sharply, "I know very well what I am doing. We are in a hurry, aren't we? We need to leave quickly before too many people come around asking where we're headed. Well, we've got a breeze heading out to sea, and we'll get more speed this way."

"We'll need to turn south to make any use of them," Josef shot back.

"You were going to turn south anyway," she shot back as she tied off the second sail. "We need to look like we're headed to the Bosporus."

Josef said nothing in response and together they formed a sort of strained alliance as they quickly walked about the ship rigging it for sailing in just a matter of minutes. Finally, with Josef standing at the wheel, Valencia slashed her wand at the stretched ropes holding them to the pier. Free of their ties, the tide and a soft wind coming off the land pulled them out into the waters of the black sea.

Just as Valencia had suggested, Josef turned almost immediately, letting everyone in the harbor see him passing south along the coast along the same path used by every ship heading toward the Mediterranean. After passing Varna, they turned sharply to head northeast. Josef had looked up old records of the island to get a pretty good idea of where to find it. Maps were useless, but both he and Valencia claimed to be able to navigate by the night sky. This, it seems, is why Josef had wanted to reach the island during the dark of night.

With the ship now comfortably sailing in the correct direction, Josef turned his attention to the bag he'd brought on board. Reaching to the very bottom, he pulled out a set of three books and set them down on the deck. Cutting the cord binding them, he pulled off the top book to reveal an object in a black cloth sack hidden in the middle of them.

Holding it up gingerly, he pulled it out of its shroud and stared at it with a look of bewildered disappointment. It was a small lamp made of brass tarnished by age. Set in the center of it was a small ivory candle which flickered with a pitifully small flame. It looked as though it might extinguish itself at any moment.

"It's not very impressive," commented Ron. "I'd be surprised if it could light a trunk, much less any part of an old castle. What do you think we're supposed to do with it?"

Josef carefully placed it back in its black cloth sack and placed it in a small chest not far from the wheel. "For once, I don't know any more than you do, Ron," he said. "I suspect that once we reach the castle it will become fairly obvious how we're meant to use it."

"Certain of that, are you?" Ron replied. "You're sure that isn't some joke? Maybe it was just some lamp that the bloke was using to look for the real key?"

"I'm positive," Josef replied, "and so were the ten guards I fought to take it from."

Over the next few hours they continued on, holding their course and watching the sun sink into the sky behind them. As the sun set, a chilly wind picked up from the south. Josef adjusted his course a little and everyone else moved below deck to escape the cold. They found a small supply of food and went about making a quick but satisfying meal. When they had all finished eating, Harry looked around and realized that Hermione had left. Checking with Ginny, he found out that she had slipped out early in the meal, after eating only a few slices of bread.

Harry tightened his cloak and climbed the ladder up onto the main deck. The wind had made the sea choppy and the boat swayed rhythmically as it plowed through the surf. Looking around, he spotted Hermione standing near the bow of the ship and staring off toward the dark horizon. Taking this opportunity, Harry walked forward cautiously, searching for steady supports to help him on his way.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly as he approached the bow. Hermione was unaffected by his voice. She remained where she was, braced against the railing as the wind tossed her hair behind her.

"You saw how I'm doing," she replied without emotion. "Why ask? What more do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I guess... I was just hoping that things might have been looking a little better. Ron said you've been taking a potion. Has it been helping?"

"Not well enough," she said, looking annoyed that Harry knew this.

"Are you feeling any different?" he asked. "Does it hurt? Has anything else changed?"

"I can't describe it to you, Harry. Yes, there is pain, but not like anything I've felt before. I know that it hurts, but it's like... like it's someone else's pain, and when I—" She stopped herself and looked down at the railing. Harry looked as well, and found her left hand clutching the wood tightly. "When I use it for magic," she continued, "it's strong and uncontrolled."

Harry frowned at this. "Have you been having any... dreams or visions?"

She glanced at him suspiciously. "What would make you ask that?"

"When we were in Carthage, you knew where we needed to go. How did you know?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I... I could just sort of feel it. I didn't know what I felt or what it meant, I just knew that we were supposed to go the other way."

"Was it a voice or—"

"No, Harry, it was just a feeling," she interrupted. Slumping a little, she rubbed her eyes. "I used to feel it in the Ministry, too. I could feel the Veil Chamber. It's weaker now. It was stronger before— before the cloaked wizard escaped. Now I feel him, too."

"You can— but—" Harry stammered, "—but he was in the same room with you just a few hours ago and you didn't—"

She turned on him. "I don't know, Harry! It was like— like I couldn't feel anything at all. There was no reason to think— You can't understand what it's like, Harry. This isn't the sort of thing I like concentrating on."

"He must have been trying to stop you," Harry wondered aloud. "Maybe if you really tried, you'd be able to control it. You could help us find him. We could track him and figure out what he's been doing. At the very least, you could help us find the rest of the Veils."

"No, Harry," she said, shaking her head. "I can't."

"Why not? I've seen you do amazing things, Hermione. You can do everything you set your mind to."

Hermione's face was stern. "No... not this."

"You haven't tried," he said, trying to sound encouraging. "Why can't you at least try?"

"Why don't you ask Josef?" she said with noticeable bitterness. "He should know what it's like. While you're at it, why don't you ask him why he doesn't know more about it?" She turned to face Harry and wiped a pair of tears from under her eyes. "Why isn't he dying slowly?" she said shakily, holding up her gloved arm. "Evelyn walked away with a different eye color. What did they do to get so lucky? Could you ask him?" she said with a sob. "Because if all I have to do is threaten to kill Ginny, I think I'd be willing to give it a try."

Pushing her way past Harry she walked back toward the hatch leading below deck. Behind her, he saw Josef at the wheel, watching the two of them. Harry knew what he was thinking. He had said they needed to talk about Hermione, and there wouldn't be a better time in the foreseeable future. Harry took a deep breath and began walking the length of the ship. Josef obviously saw him coming but gave him no greeting or any other sign to acknowledge his arrival. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to speak first.

"You wanted to talk about Hermione?"

Josef kept his eyes on the dark line of the horizon. "She is tainted," he said.

Harry felt his stomach tighten. "She's my _friend_."

Josef was unmoved. "Your friend has been poisoned in a way that cannot be cured, Harry. I admit that I already knew, but it's progressing faster than I had expected. When I saw the extent of it, I was surprised by how aggressively it's spreading."

"She's been trying to treat it with a potion," Harry said. "But I don't think it's helping as much as Ron wants to think that it is."

"Odd that it affected her so strongly, yet I am not. I would have to say that something else happened to her," Josef continued, keeping his eyes on the sea. "It's more than just the incident with Marcus Lipton's son, isn't it? I was affected just as much as she was, yet I developed no such mark on my hands. I have to believe there was a second incident. Am I right?"

"I don't really know," Harry answered quickly, happy that he didn't have to say this to Josef's face. "She refuses to talk about it."

"From what I can gather, this mark of hers didn't start to become a nuisance until the end of October. It seems strange that it would take a whole month to simply become noticeable, then only two to reach her fingertips, and two more to reach her collarbone. It seems more likely that the initial contact simply made her susceptible, while a second incident in October actually caused this... condition."

Harry chose to say nothing at all, waiting instead for Josef to explain what he might have suspected.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't as bad as what happened to Lipton's son, or the Franklin girl, or even Miss Sibley, and yet, you must realize that Hermione is destined for a similar fate. It's only a matter of time, Harry. You need to keep an eye on her. You need to be prepared."

"Prepared for what? What am I supposed to watch for?" Harry lashed out, driven by his fear of the secret Josef had come so close to. "What do you want me to do? Snap her wand so she can't attack us? Force her to drink sleeping potions until her mind rots? Lock her away in the deepest dungeon I can find?" He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Or were you suggesting something more permanent? I'm not like you. I won't kill my friends to save my own life."

Josef's head snapped to the side and he glared at Harry with restrained anger. Harry knew he'd gone too far, but he hadn't been thinking straight.

"This isn't about us, Harry, it's about _her_," Josef growled. "Don't you see? Before you saved me, I had a connection to the cloaked wizard, but it was broken because he didn't want to kill me and feared what I might learn through it. She still has it, but you cannot imagine the battle she is fighting right now. It is one she cannot win by herself. If we fail, death is the best fate she can hope for. Her only hope comes from us, and so long as she still fights, she can help us." Letting out a short sigh, Josef relaxed and turned his attention back to the wheel. "She's going to get worse, Harry, and you need to be prepared to handle that."

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I thought— The Brotherhood was always so suspicious of anyone who might weaken the group."

"The Brotherhood is gone, Harry," he said wearily. "I did not always agree with their methods, but you must understand that it was all I had." He lowered his head in defeat. "I have done many things I am not proud of, but I've never regretted anything I did to save you or Ginny or any of your friends. I would hope that you wouldn't ever regret anything you did to save me or Hermione."

Harry stood in silence for a moment. It seemed inappropriate to say anything more. Josef had made himself clear. Hermione might not be a danger, but she could become a liability. In the back of his mind, Harry wondered if she already was.

"This looks a little worse than expected," Josef commented, squinting into the night air. Harry reached for the spyglass and found an imposing wall of fog directly ahead of them. It seemed to stretch the entire length of the horizon though there was no sign of movement or change. The two of them stood at the wheel, watching and waiting for some sign that might tell them what to do.

The fog, however, had no intentions of helping them. For some time they stood and watched in helpless frustration as it hung immobile across their path. Josef voiced a hope that the night sky, lit only by a sliver of the new moon, was making it worse than it truly was. A half hour after they first spotted it, the ship plunged into the heart of the heavy haze. Instantaneously, the night sky was blotted from view along with every other visible thing.

Josef swore sharply and instinctively spun the wheel about, causing the ship to lurch as it tried to match the will of its captain. Responding quickly to his wand, the largest of the sails collapsed and began to roll itself up, slowing the ship noticeably.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Trying to keep us alive," Josef shouted as he ran to the rail to peer down into the water.

"I thought you said the island was that way," Harry said, pointing off in the direction they had been going just moments before.

"What do you want me to do, Harry?" Josef shouted back. "Take a look around you. There's only so much I can do. We're looking for an unplottable island. It's not on any of the charts and even if it was, we can't even see the bloody stars! If we're lucky, we'll pass by it and never even know it was there. If not, we'll strike the rocks and be lucky to reach the shore."

"What happened?" a voice called from farther forward. The fog seemed to make both seeing and hearing nearly impossible. He walked toward the center of the ship and nearly bumped into a tall woman walking in the opposite direction.

"What is going on?" Valencia asked. "Why have we turned?"

"We can't see a bloody thing," Harry said, though he felt rather silly pointing out the obvious. He could feel rather than hear more people climbing on deck as Valencia pushed past him on her way back to Josef. He followed as quickly as he could, stumbling over every small object. Then, quite suddenly, Josef and Valencia came into clear view.

"Turn back," she demanded.

"We're not going to find the island in this," Josef replied. "We have to wait for it to lift."

"It's not going to lift, idiot," she snapped. "This is how they keep everyone away from the island."

"Well, I'd say it does a pretty good job. If you have any idea how to pilot a ship in this, now might be a good time to share."

Valencia glared at him but said nothing. Suddenly, a thought struck Harry. Stepping away from Josef and Valencia, he noticed —just as he had a moment before— that the fog seemed much lighter at the very back of the ship. His eyes searched the deck around Josef and found what he was looking for: the small chest not far from the wheel.

"The lantern!" he shouted. "It doesn't help us get into the castle, it helps us find our way there!"

Josef immediately lunged for the chest and pulled the lantern out of its bag. It flickered only weakly at first, making Harry doubt himself. Then, as Josef raised it, the light blossomed into a shining beacon which made the fog retreat well beyond the railings of the ship. Harry looked around the deck, finding Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Lupin standing not far from the hatch with expressions that matched Harry's feeling of surprise.

"Hang it on the bowsprit!" Josef shouted as he handed the lantern to Valencia. As she ran to the front of the ship, he spun the wheel about, sending everyone searching for something to hold onto.

With the lantern swinging happily in front of them, the impenetrable fog parted to reveal the dark waves of the Black Sea. Somewhat shaken by the events, everyone now stood on the deck, watching their progress through the dark channel created by the lantern. Hermione returned to her station at the bow and Harry and Ginny took position nearby. Gradually, Harry began to notice that the fog seemed to be closing in on the left, while it was drifting farther away on the right.

"You're drifting to port!" Valencia shouted from farther back, obviously noticing the same thing Harry had seen.

"My heading hasn't changed," Josef replied, sounding somewhat annoyed.

She replied with even greater annoyance. "Your rudder might be straight, but your course is drifting to port!"

"I'm telling you, my course is fine!"

Feeling Ginny tugging at his sleeve, Harry turned away from the brewing battle. Ahead of them, a clear path through the fog could be seen bending rather dramatically to the right.

"Josef!" he barked over the bickering. "I think the lantern wants us to turn to the right!" Josef didn't wait to hear what Valencia's opinion was. Seeing the path opening before the ship, he quickly turned the wheel.

They continued adjusting their course to follow the path the lantern was leading them on. Considering the effort they had gone through to get it and their inability to proceed in any other manner, it seemed wise to simply place their trust in the bizarre artifact and hope that Golakhov Castle would be at the other end of the journey.

The sound of the waves seemed louder than it had been, almost as though it was echoing off the walls of fog surrounding them. It felt entirely unnatural and made Harry feel uncomfortable. He felt as though they were completely lost and horribly exposed at the same time.

"I thought it was only supposed to take six hours. Shouldn't we be there by now?" Ginny asked as they took another sweeping turn only to find another stretch of dark water leading off into the fog. "We have to be getting close, right?"

Harry cast a sidelong glance at the thick mist around them. "I don't think anyone really knows how long it takes to get through this fog. It feels like we've been sailing for an hour and getting nowhere. I can't help but feel that—"

"—Something's wrong," Hermione said, catching the attention of everyone around her. "It feels like we're close, but it has to be a trick."

"Hold on," Ron said, walking closer. "Why do you think we're close?"

"I can _feel_ it," Hermione said. "That's why I'm here. I can feel the Veils. That's why Josef still wants me here. That's why Harry won't leave me behind." Harry felt Ron glaring at him, but Hermione didn't let him speak. "But it's all wrong. We're close, but we never get any closer. It's like it's just out of sight."

The ship turned to follow the path created by the lamp and suddenly, almost as though her words had broken some spell, they found themselves on the other side of the fog, sailing toward a craggy island with sharp spires jutting out its rocky shore.

"Oh, no," gasped Hermione. "No! Tell Josef to turn back!" she cried. "We have to turn back now!"

"What are you talking about?" Ron said. "We're finally here. What's wrong?"

"Josef!" she yelled. "Turn around! Go back into the fog!" He didn't seem to want to obey her any more than Ron did. "It wasn't the Veil! Turn around, _please!_" she begged. Harry followed her as she ran back to Josef, speaking in a stream of frantic words.

"I was wrong! I thought it was the fog. I thought I felt the Veil near us. I thought it must be just ahead of us, but it wasn't. It wasn't the Veil and it wasn't ahead of us." She ran past Josef and slammed into the railing on the very stern of the ship. She shook her head and spoke in an apologetic voice: "It was behind us."

She extended an arm to point along their wake just as the prow of a great ship burst through the fog. Ron and Ginny ran up from behind Harry just in time to gape at the tall brigantine as it unfurled every last sail it had. Nearly twice the size of the _Demeter_, the brigantine was already gaining speed and closing the distance to the smaller schooner even as it banked to turn directly toward the island.

Harry reached for the spyglass and turned it on the island. "The pier is off to the left," he told Josef. "We'll need to turn now if we want to stay ahead of it."

"It's not going to matter," Valencia said flatly.

Harry lowered the spyglass and looked toward the brigantine. Though he could feel only a gentle wind, the larger ship's sails were bulged and straining against a mysterious gale which had appeared out of nowhere. Not only had it spotted the pier and made its turn, but it was already even with the _Demeter_ and still gaining speed.

"We need to go faster," Harry urged.

"There's nothing more I can do," Josef growled. "He's got twice as much sail as we do and at least twice the wind. If any of you have your wands handy, now might be a good time to use them."

Everyone immediately drew their wands and cast whatever spells they could think of that might generate more wind. It helped, but when Harry looked back at the brigantine, it was already halfway to the island. Lowering his wand, he reached again for the spyglass, aiming it at the dark ship this time. At first, he saw no sign at all of anyone aboard the ship. Then, he spotted a single figure standing at the bow, his arms raised and a tattered cloak billowing in the wind.

"Who is it?" Ron asked, keeping his wand on the sails.

"Someone who can call the wind without a wand," Harry replied heavily. He lowered the spyglass and tossed it to the deck. "It's the cloaked wizard. He's been trailing us since we entered the fog."

There was little point in trying to catch up. Though Lupin, Tonks, and Simon continued trying to push the ship faster, Harry proceeded to the very front of the ship to watch their adversary close in on the pier. He had used them. He couldn't convince the magistrate to give him the lantern, and alone he didn't pose enough of a threat to make the magistrate want to protect it. They had all been tricked. Even Josef hadn't seen the deception. The cloaked wizard had simply given them the idea then sat back and followed them to his goal, waiting to pounce at the very end.

Harry's jaw clenched in anger. The brigantine drifted up to the pier and came to a gentle stop. They were still minutes away. They could only watch in helpless dismay as a small, dark figure leaped form the bow, landed lightly on the pier, and began walking toward the large main gate of the castle.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

There we are. I told you it was done, and now I've proven it. The next chapter is coming along well. It's shorter and darker, but it will finally answer some of the questions people have regarding this odd cloaked wizard who's causing so much trouble.


	10. Retribution

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

**Retribution**

* * *

Harry stared up at the pointed spires of Golakhov Castle while Josef and Valencia hastily tied the _Demeter_ to the pier. He couldn't help but feel nervous at the sight of his surroundings. The tall brigantine which had passed by them earlier hung in the water on the opposite side of the pier with an imposing silence. 

Lying all around the pier were dozens of corpses. If they had looked any differently, Harry might have felt a horrible sadness at the sight, but the bodies weren't normal at all. They were all old, pale, and gaunt with clouded eyes and rotting teeth, wearing a collection of tattered clothes that looked centuries old. They looked as though they should have been dead for many years at least, and yet they were lying along the pier and shore in a pattern that was impossible to ignore. The trail of bodies started at the bow of the brigantine and advanced along the pier to the shore, then up a stone path to the main gatehouse of the castle. It was the exact path they'd watched the cloaked wizard take when he reached the shore.

"Inferi," Valencia announced as she knelt down and lifted one of the corpses' heads to get a closer look. "That's what happens to everyone who comes to the island. They are turned into Inferi."

"What?" Ron choked. "But—"

"You have no reason to worry, Ron," Josef assured him. "That curse was broken the moment we destroyed the Veil in Romania. It's been replaced by a much more dangerous one, one which walks and capable of wielding this sort of power against dark magical creatures."

Looking up toward the castle, Lupin let out a resigned sigh. "Well, at least we won't have to fight the Inferi ourselves," he said. "And we've got a pretty good idea which direction he went. We should be able to follow the trail."

They did just that. Following the path of dead bodies up the gatehouse, they found a wide courtyard which seemed to be the scene of the worst attack, though it was difficult to know just who the aggressor had been.

"There's something wrong with this," Ron commented as he surveyed the paved area. "There must be a hundred of them, but they're all spread out and, well, unharmed. They're all dead, of course, but there's nothing that seems to have caused them to, er... stop doing what Inferi do. No cuts or burns or explosions. They didn't even trip over each other. It's almost as if they just fell over all at once. What sort of charm could do that?"

No one had any answers, but there was no point in trying to find them. They had come to the island to stop the cloaked wizard and the fallen Inferi would lead them to him. It didn't matter how they fell so long as they fought long enough to leave a trail.

They found the front gate of the castle propped open by yet another corpse. Inside, the entrance was empty, but in the distance, they spotted a pair of dark shapes slumped against a wide doorway. Beyond that they found another corridor and eventually more bodies. This pattern was repeated again and again, though each time, it became harder to find the trail. The Inferi were thinning out and Harry and the others were running out of time. Reaching the bottom of a short set of stairs, they heard a dull thud echoing down a nearby corridor.

They quickly ran to the arched entry to the corridor. Peering into the dim light, they spotted a number of upright shapes that were still moving. Instinctively, Harry and Ron raised their wands and prepared to defend themselves if they were suddenly spotted, but Josef stopped them with a quick gesture.

One of the shapes was slightly taller than the others, but only because he was walking with the upright posture of the living. Even from a distance, they managed to recognize the cloaked wizard in the center of a pack of Inferi who were approaching him with their mechanical gait.

Creeping forward, they watched as the cloaked wizard raised his hand toward one of the Inferi. It froze for a moment, then shuddered and dropped to the floor like the lifeless corpse nature always intended it to be. A small, dark mist rose from the fallen body which Harry first took to be nothing more than a cloud of disturbed dust. His opinion changed quickly as it curled slowly upward, then drifted into the cloaked wizard's hand. He then turned, held out his hand toward the next Inferius, and repeated the scene again.

"What is he doing?" Ron whispered. "Why is he killing them? I mean... wouldn't he want them to run off and kill us or something?" Harry admitted that he was just as confused, but Josef seemed to understand exactly what was happening.

"He's not killing them," he said in a low voice. "He's_harvesting_ them. It takes power to make an Inferius. He's taking it back."

This was a horrifying prospect. Whatever the cloaked wizard truly was, he was already shown himself to be far stronger than any normal wizard, and probably stronger even than Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore. Harry wondered just how much more power he could gain and how much it would take before there wouldn't be a wizard in the world who could stand against him. Perhaps it was already too late.

"We need to stop him," Harry hissed. "How do you kill an Inferius?"

"I believe that was a pretty effective demonstration, Potter," Valencia commented. "There are other equally effective ways, though few wizards will resort to such measures. The rest will be better served by fire or the rather messy alternative of explosions."

"Then there's no time to waste," he replied. Harry gritted his teeth, stood up and leveled his wand at the four remaining Inferi.

"_Inflamare!_" he shouted and was rewarded with the sight of bright orange flames engulfing the nearest Inferius. It didn't drop, however, and with a wave of his hand, the cloaked wizard quelled the fire and turned a pair of baleful green eyes on Harry.

"This is no time to hold back, Potter," Valencia snarled. She leaped from the wall and slammed into Harry, pushing him out of the middle of the corridor just as a bolt of red light shot past them.

On the other side of the passage, Josef was aiming his wand. "_Reducto!_"

The cloaked wizard leaped in the path of the hex and it bounced harmlessly off him, striking the wall instead and blocking part of the corridor with rubble.

"Enough of this!" yelled Valencia. Pulling her wand from her robes she strode forward, raised it to eye level and shouted in a harsh, dominating voice:

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The words seemed to echo inside Harry's mind. They triggered so many horrible memories, yet he didn't want to look away. He needed to watch. With a flash of light and the sound of rushing wind, the curse sped down the corridor, missing an Inferius and slamming into the chest of the cloaked wizard.

Uncertainty seized Harry as he waited to see what would happen. Then, just as suddenly as the curse had been cast, the light in the wizard's eyes faded and Harry felt a strange flash of hope. There was no howls of agony or rage, no counterattacks or desperate attempts to flee. The wizard simply dropped to the ground, as lifeless as the Inferi around him. Harry struggled to suck in a breath. Was it possible? What had just happened?

"What— It can't be—" stammered Ron. "I mean, was it that simple?"

"No," Josef said, pointing down the corridor. A thick black mist had collected along the floor. "Harry, be careful. We don't know what—"

Harry spotted something moving in the mist. To his horror, one of the fallen Inferi sat up, then stood up with a measured, confident agility. The mist slowly contracted, thickening around the newly animated corpse which seemed to be absorbing it. Valencia raised her wand again.

"_Avada—_"

The corpse's eyes flashed with green flame and its arm slashed through the air before she could finish the curse. Her wand burst into blinding white flames and she dropped it with a shriek of pain. Within seconds, it was consumed, leaving Valencia staring down at small pile of white ash on the floor with a look of astonishment.

"How _dare_ you use such things against me," the figure said, speaking with a voice Harry recognized well. It's features were already blurring, changing from the rotting, discolored flesh of the Inferius to the features of a young, pale-faced man. "Did you think you could vanquish me with one of my own spells? Did you think I would have taught them the tools to destroy me?"

He turned his back on them, showing how little he feared them, and waved his hands over the lifeless target of Valencia's curse. The body quickly vaporized into a thick, yellowish cloud, leaving nothing left but his cloak. Picking it up, he slipped it around his shoulders and turned toward the remaining Inferi, which had simply stood nearby, waiting for their master to command them.

Harry, Josef, and the others exchanged looks of dismay while the cloaked wizard finished what he had been doing with the Inferi. Even the Killing Curse couldn't stop him. Without any further acknowledgment of their presence, the cloaked wizard turned and walked away, disappearing into a dark room at the end of the corridor.

Without a plan or even any thought as to what he was doing, Harry ran after him. If only out of concern and fear for his safety the others followed as quickly as they could. At the end of the corridor, Harry found a wide hall with a broken table and the splintered remains of dozens of chairs. Lighting his wand, he cast it about the room, looking for some sign of his quarry, but there was nothing to be found.

"He's gone," Ron said, stating the obvious since Harry didn't seem to be willing to accept it.

"What do we do now?" Ginny asked.

Harry immediately turned toward Hermione, a questioning look in his eyes. She just shook her head. "He's nearby," she said, "but I can't tell you where. This whole castle— The Inferi— It's like he's everywhere at once."

"It doesn't matter," Harry announced as he passed the light from his wand across the walls of the room again. He was no longer looking for the cloaked wizard, but doorways. Picking the widest, he started walking toward it. "We don't need to find him," he explained. "We just need to find the Veil. That might be the only place we can stop him."

The largest corridor seemed to be the most likely place to start looking for the Veil Chamber. Assuming that Golakhov knew the Veil was there when he built the castle, he probably would have made it fairly easy to find. Of course, it was just as likely that he would have hidden the entrance, but Harry simply ignored this idea. If it was true, there was nothing they could do, and it didn't help to take such things into consideration.

Following the corridor, Harry continued in what he felt seemed to be the most logical direction. They had walked down a few flights of stairs and passed by numerous narrow corridors and darkened halls. Finally, the corridor came to an end in a small chamber with no less than five other doorways leading away from it. Two led off to either side, one led to a cracked marble staircase leading upward, another was almost totally blocked by a cave-in, and the last led to a step set of spiral stairs which descended into a deep shaft.

"We go down," Harry said. The shaft looked far too similar to the one he'd seen under Knossos. He began to doubt that Golakhov had built the whole castle himself. Like the Minoans at Knossos, he may have built the castle on that spot knowing what lay in the caverns below.

They followed the stairs down wondering just how far they would go. Three times they found landings built into the staircase with doorways leading off in different directions, but Harry pressed them onward, continuing deeper into the bowels of the castle. The air became chilly and heavy with moisture.

The staircase ended abruptly in a small, circular room with a low domed ceiling and broken, uneven floor. The curved walls were lined with faint carvings which had faded and eroded over time. In quite a few places, large chunks of stone had broken away from the wall. Looking closer at a few of these pits, they realized that they had not been caused by stress or age, but by spells and sharp tools. They were evenly spaced around the room in an almost methodical pattern.

"Someone was looking for something," Lupin commented.

Harry understood immediately. "A doorway," he said. "It's hidden. We're not far from the chamber."

"A lot of good that does us," groaned Ron. "Whoever did this didn't find it. What makes you think we will?"

"Perhaps they did find it," Justinian announced. "After all, they stopped searching, didn't they? At least, they stopped searching the walls." He was kneeling near a large pit in the floor which stretched all the way to the wall. Holding his hand over it, he smiled. "Come here. There's a cool draft coming up."

Harry and the others rushed over and found that the large pit was actually the start of a cramped, unwelcoming tunnel. Justinian, who claimed to have some experience with tunnels, offered to investigate it. Only moments after his feet disappeared under the wall, they heard his voice calling back to them.

"It's much larger once you get through the first bit," he said. "Come on. The air is fresh. It must be coming from some other opening."

Though Ron and Hermione showed no excitement over the idea, they joined everyone else in following Justinian through the small opening. As he'd said, the tunnel widened dramatically after only a few feet. With wands lit, they could see that they were in some sort of old corridor. The walls were rough and unadorned and the floor was covered with a layer of dust. With only one direction to go they began walking.

After a few minutes, the narrow corridor began to shrink again, becoming a shaft with barely enough room for a single person to walk. Slowly, the floor pitched downward until they were pressing their hands against the walls to help them climb down. The heat was becoming more pronounced and Harry thought he could almost make out an odd green glow flickering off the stones ahead of him.

The tunnel ended abruptly with a large rough hole. After nearly falling through it, Harry crouched down to take a closer look. The hole itself was only a few feet deep, but it appeared that it broke through into a large chamber. The floor of the chamber looked to be twenty feet below them and bathed in disturbing green light.

"It's too far to jump," commented Harry, "and I don't think we'll find anything suitable to land on. Maybe with some rope, or—"

Pushing his way up to Harry, Ron peered over his shoulder. "Too slow, Harry," he said with a sigh. "It's not that far, though. Why not try the Spongiformus Charm? It worked well outside the twin's shop."

"This whole place is filled with charms, Ron," replied Harry. "If there is a protection charm we'll never know until—"

"Looks like the ceiling didn't have one," Ron commented as he tapped his foot on the broken edge of the hole. "It's worth a try," he said with a brave expression. "I'll let you know how it works."

Josef and Harry exchanged questioning looks. After a moment of silence, Josef shrugged and nodded. Harry agreed. It seemed the simplest solution. Picking up a loose chunk of stone he tossed it down through the hole and waited to see that no traps seemed to be waiting for them. Nothing happened and while this wasn't completely satisfying, it was the best he had. Aiming his wand down through the hole, Harry whispered: _Spongify!_.

With a nod and an uncertain smile, Ron slid off the edge of the opening and plummeted to the chamber below. Harry cringed at the grunt Ron let out as he struck the floor. His momentary worry disappeared a second later as Ron's body was tossed gently out of view with a faint groan.

"It worked," Ron shouted up to them. "Mostly."

Josef insisted on being next, and Harry followed quickly behind them. The landing wasn't nearly as soft as he would have liked, but Ron had been right: it was faster and they needed every second. After quickly checking everyone for broken bones, Harry forced them onward. There was no time to treat their scrapes and bruises.

The chamber they found themselves in was completely circular. Three rows of pale green flame encircled the perimeter, casting their light off the polished stone floor and giving the room an eerie atmosphere. The only breaks in the rings were two sets of doors at opposite ends of the chamber. One set was made of a dark stone, while the other glittered with carved gold.

"The gold ones," Harry said, pointing the way.

Everyone ran for the door. Harry ran through any number of things he might try to open the doors. He had no idea whether they would be locked or barred or charmed in some manner. As he approached them, he realized that he had worried needlessly. There were much more important things to worry about.

The golden doors had been left slightly ajar, leaving a narrow crack through which Harry could see more green light and the hint of another larger chamber. Running faster, Harry slammed his shoulder into the door, sending it swinging heavily into the next chamber. His wand was drawn and ready before he even reached the first step.

It was indeed another Veil chamber, though it was not at all like the others. Like the antechamber, it was lit by concentric ledges filled with flickering green flame. The raised platform at the very bottom of the chamber was surrounded by a large ring of gold, though one of the three silver spheres Harry expected to find had been removed and the gold band broken and bent. It looked as though it had been done quite some time ago.

The most striking feature, however, was the Veil itself. Harry felt encouraged that it had not been destroyed as the others had. At the same time, it was not at all like the one in London. There was no gauzy veil covering it. Instead, a dark cloud of blackness pulsed and swirled in the arch, blacking out everything behind it. The large stone arch framing it was shattered and crumbling at the very top, so that it looked as though it could not stand on its own. The only thing that seemed to keep it standing was a bizarre statue in the shape of a man. He was wearing a long cape and something that looked rather like a tall crown on his head. He was leaning forward with one hand on each post of the arch, as though pushing them into place. Harry didn't understand the purpose immediately, but he was more interested in the fact that the Veil was still intact.

His happiness was only temporary. The others had barely made it through the door before Harry felt pain building in his scar. "I think—" he began to say as it became a little more piercing. "We don't have long. Bar the door."

"No need for that," a voice called from the platform.

Everyone froze in place and looked toward the center of the chamber to find the cloaked wizard stepping out from behind the darkened arch. "Harry Potter, meet Zahari Golakhov," he said, motioning toward the blackened statue.

Ron and Ginny came to stop on either side of Harry and drew their wands. Though he couldn't see them, he knew that Simon and Tonks had walked off to either side of him, spreading out and making it harder for the cloaked wizard to attack them all at once.

"There's no need for wands," he said firmly. "I assure you that Zahari will not attack you."

Harry felt a slight tap on his shoulder and heard Josef whispering softly: "No spare bodies here." In an attempt to hide the hope he felt with this observation, Harry forced himself to scowl as he shouted down toward the platform: "What did you do to him? Did he try to stop you or did he just get in your way?"

"Do not pity him, Harry," the wizard replied casually as he walked to the edge of the platform. "Zahari was not a good man. His passion for dark magic was immeasurable. He reveled in it, surrounding himself with it and spending his every waking hour in search of it."

"Ah, so you killed because you didn't like the competition?" Harry said as he searched for anything that might be useful in the room. He needed something both lethal and quiet, something that the cloaked wizard wouldn't see coming.

"I thought you knew me better, Harry," the wizard said in a disappointed tone. "I have no love for the Dark Arts, neither do I hate them. I know the truth. There is only magic. The ideas of Light and Dark are simply reflections of our intent and desires."

"Your intentions look pretty dark to me."

"I'm not surprised," the wizard growled. "You only see the surface. You never look for the deeper answers. There is your villain," he said, pointing a pale finger toward the frozen statue. "In this castle, Zahari Golakhov performed rituals and experiments whose mere description would turn your stomach. It was he who performed the extensive experiments with Horcruxes that would later serve a young Tom Riddle so well. It was he who perfected methods of creating Inferi. Do you still pity this man?"

Harry remained silent, keeping his eyes on the cloaked wizard. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Lupin creeping over to Tonks' side.

"Knowing this, can you still feel any remorse for what transpired here?" the wizard continued. "I can, though it is not because I would have preferred him to live. If given the chance, I would have gladly subjected him to every agony he inflicted on his subjects. It was unfortunate that he, of all wizards, was the first person in centuries to be in a place to free me from my prison. I was not given a choice. Reluctantly, we agreed to an exchange."

"You taught him even more about the Dark Arts," Harry said scornfully. "For all that you just said about how horrible he was, you had no problem helping him hurt all of those people you pitied."

"Yes, I taught him," the cloaked wizard admitted with disdain. "I taught him powerful magic which the world had long forgotten. I showed him things beyond his comprehension and relied on his arrogance and ambition to keep him from sharing his newfound knowledge with the rest of the brutal world. A wizard like Zahari hoards his secrets and advantages. In exchange, he promised to release me from my prison. I made no promises about what might happen to him after that."

"Why not just overpower his mind and force him to destroy it?" Harry asked. "Why teach him at all if you disliked him so much?"

"Do you think I did not try? Zahari was not a foolish wizard and he was not a weak one. The same could be said of Grigore and he resisted me for nearly one hundred years. Zahari was wary of me and did not permit anyone else to approach the chamber. His mind was strong-willed and he would not suffer any damage to the ancient artifact he believed to be the source of so much invaluable knowledge. So I was forced to take a more subtle approach. I taught him the magics he would need to open the gate without destroying it.

"It took thirty long years to train him so he would not die halfway through the process. Finally, the day came for his debt to be paid. He planned some manner of celebration, permitting, for once, some of his closest allies to join him in the chamber. Perhaps he brought them as protection. Perhaps he simply wished others to witness how powerful he had become. It does not matter.

"He began the ritual by breaking the ring and I became immediately aware of the others. Their minds were weaker, easier to manipulate. While he began eroding the barrier between the two worlds, I reached out, seeking to ensure that I would not lose my chance. I acted too quickly," the cloaked wizard said, sounding for a moment almost human. "Zahari sensed the intrusion. He looked into the darkness and finally saw me. In that moment, as I stood on the threshold of my prison, I could feel the fear strangling him. In panic and folly, he abandoned the ritual, and instead poured all of his power —all the power I had helped him gain— into sealing the gateway.

"We fought, and for a while I had the upper hand. Our struggle overwhelmed the gateway," he said, pointing to the open space in the arch. "Then, in an act of uncharacteristic selflessness and all too characteristic malice, Zahari Golakhov rushed forward and bound himself to the Gate, sealing it beyond my power and condemning me to over four hundred more years of imprisonment."

"Sounds like he wasn't quite as evil as you hoped he would be," quipped Harry.

"Perhaps not," the wizard replied in a strained voice. "or perhaps he was far more ambitious than I believed. From the first moment he saw the Gate, he had been blinded by his lust for power. Like you, he only saw the surface. He had always perceived me as a subordinate, someone of weak will despite curiously vast knowledge. He had been researching ways to control and enslave me once I had been freed. When he saw me, he understood the true extent of my power and realized that it was he who would be the subordinate. Perhaps he even perceived the danger he was in. Fearing betrayal, he betrayed me first, and sacrificed himself to prevent me from fully passing through the gateway."

"So it was you who cursed the island," Harry said, trying to buy a little more time as Lupin and Tonks were whispering to each other frantically.

"Whatever would drive me to do that?" he replied, apparently oblivious to everyone but Harry. "It obviously has not served me well at all. I have no use for the mindless slaves who swarm the shores of this island. No, that was Zahari's work. I never taught him how to build or repair a Gate. It was something he had studied by himself, though not well." He waved a hand at the statue gripping the two columns and sneered. "This... clumsy attempt helped no one. His soul remains here to this day, trapped in a prison of his own making. It was sufficient to bar my crossing, but not complete enough to keep my power from seeping through. Across the ages, hundreds of wayward travelers happened upon the shore. The luckiest were killed instantly. The others absorbed power from this failed experiment, slowly siphoning my power yet binding it in this worthless, empty place."

Harry forced a crooked smile. "It sounds like justice, to me."

"_Justice?_" the cloaked wizard shouted. "You think that is justice?"

Harry gripped his wand, but kept it at his side. "He was a dark wizard; he got what he deserved. You meant to betray him and found yourself betrayed instead."

"What crime had I committed?" he asked in a booming voice. "What had I done to deserve this fate?"

"I don't know," replied Harry, "but I dare say you've committed them now."

"Am I not allowed vengeance?" the wizard roared. Hermione let out a shriek and clutched at her shoulder in pain. "Why am I imprisoned?" he continued, oblivious to her reaction. "Why are those who attacked me left unpunished, while I am forced to endure agony beyond all imagination?"

"Because you have shown your true intentions," Harry spat back at him. "Your vengeance has consumed you. You are every bit as evil and twisted as Golakhov. You have ravaged cities, destroyed thousands of lives and warped the minds of good wizards. Whatever was done cannot be fixed. Whoever attacked you is gone."

"No, Harry," the wizard said as his eyes flickered. "No, they are not."

A dull crack and rumble echoed through the chamber. Turning quickly, Harry found Tonks and Lupin with their wands raised to the ceiling. A second later, a huge chunk of stone dropped from the ceiling above the cloaked wizard. He leaped away at the last moment, dodging the block as it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Brilliant green light streamed from two points beneath his hood as he strode toward the broken arch.

"Be careful, Harry," he shouted. "Do not be foolish like Zahari, here. I have no desire to end your friends' lives, but I will if I am pressed." Standing a little straighter, he gripped the closest pillar with one hand. Faint green lines began to flow across the surface of the masonry as though they were following ancient cracks in the stone.

Harry raised his wand and prepared to do whatever it took to stop him.

"Yes, that is what I was talking about," the wizard said in a harsh tone. "Do not try to stop me. I have shown you mercy in the past. I would hope that we could agree that I have been exceedingly patient with you today."

Without a word, Harry's wand flicked quickly toward one of the larger chunks of stone, launching it toward the cloaked wizard. He raised a hand and deflected the worst of the blow, but was knocked backward and to his knees in the attempt. Harry had never really meant to kill him with the blow. He got precisely the outcome he'd wanted: the cloaked wizard was distracted and positioned dangerously close to the front of the arch. He seemed to be just sitting there seething with anger, no doubt unaware of the danger he was in. One simple Banishment Charm and the whole ordeal could be over.

"_Depul—_"

Harry stopped the incantation as Hermione stepped from out of nowhere to put itself between Harry and the cloaked wizard. Ready to shout at her for her ill-timed move, Harry quickly stepped to the side and raised his wand again, only to have her match his movement. He stared at her in frustrated rage but she only stared back at him with fear and confusion.

Slowly, she took a step backward, then another. Each time Harry tried to step to one side or the other, she mirrored him looking ever more distraught.

"I told you to be careful, Harry," the cloaked wizard snarled. "I did not want to be forced to do it this way, but you have given me no choice. I cannot stop your attempts, but I want you to know that if you continue it will cost you the life of your friend —and I know the two of you are very close."

At this, Hermione's eyes widened in panic. She seemed to be trying to stop herself, but she kept on slowly walking backward toward the broken arch. Fear gripped Harry as he considered the possibility that she might now stop. The same idea must have occurred to Ron as stepped forward, making Harry reach out to hold him back. At the center of the chamber, the cloaked wizard let out a soft, hissing laugh which only made Ron fight harder.

Harry told himself that the wizard had no intention of killing Hermione. He hadn't made any real attempt to kill them yet, and nothing they had done had warranted such a response. It was just another game. He only wanted to get a reaction out of them. And yet, in the back of his mind, his fear was growing. Pausing briefly as though struggling to pull her feet from the floor, Hermione stepped over the golden ring surrounding the center platform. Harry could see that she was fighting, but it wasn't working. She had to stop soon. If she didn't—

Harry saw a small shape rush past him and leap down the stairs with crimson hair flying over a billowing black cloak.

"Ginny, no!" he cried as he let go of Ron.

In an instant, Ginny reached the bottom of the stairs and dashed to the raised platform. Clutching at one of Hermione's arms, she pulled her to a standstill and refused to let her step any closer to the arch.

"I won't let you hurt her!" cried Ginny.

The cloaked wizard's eyes flared in rage. "If you knew all that I know, you would not be so loyal. Now stand back. I have a task which I will not suffer to be interrupted."

"If you kill her," Ginny said in a wavering voice, "I'll see that you _never_ get what you want."

The cloaked wizard seemed to calm slightly as he stared at her. Then, with one hand he reached out and clutched at the pillar again, slowly filling the cracks and crevices with an emerald light. "If she dies, it will be on Potter's hands, not mine," he declared. "I only care about the Gate and its destruction. If you or Potter or any of your friends interfere, I cannot say what her fate will be." He turned to stare directly at her. "Her peril is a result of Harry's actions, not mine."

"Don't pretend like you had no choice in this. It's no accident that we're here," she snapped. "You were in Sofia for at least a week. You could have gotten the lantern yourself. Why?" she asked. "Why the deception?"

The wizard's eyes flared again. "Because I wanted to see what you were capable of?" he suggested. "Because it is simpler to let others do my work for me? Because now it is you who will be blamed for the theft? There are many possible reasons, but in the end, I'm afraid the truth is simply that it amused me."

"No," she replied flatly. "I don't believe that. There's something more. You wanted us to be here. You had no problem destroying any of the other Veils. You had plenty of time here and yet this Veil remains. You got here long before we did but you waited. You wanted the confrontation, but why? What would make you want that?"

"You," he growled in response. "You need to see. You need to understand."

"Understand what?"

"You need to understand what you have started. Your betrayal was only the beginning, a single act which has created an avalanche beyond anything you could have seen."

"Then why is it my fault?" she shouted. "Why am I held responsible for actions that I have not caused? It wasn't even me! I don't even know what you're talking about! You're searching for revenge against someone who simply doesn't exist!"

He held up his free hand and it glowed with a dark red light. "Perhaps she doesn't," he said with finality. "We will see. Now step away before you are injured yet again."

"No!" Ginny shouted defiantly.

"You _will_ step away," he repeated in a firmer voice. The entire arch was now vibrating and pulsing with green light. The darkness inside it was swirling so that its edges seemed to fade. The cloaked wizard then held his other hand up to the dark portal and closed his eyes, leaving his hood in dark shadows.

For a moment, Harry entertained the idea of trying one last attack. He might not get another opportunity for quite some time. However, before he could even raise his wand, a blinding flash of red light filled the chamber. Squinting against the light, he saw wisps of darkness spinning wildly about the arch as the green cracks in it grew brighter and brighter.

Ginny was trying frantically to pull Hermione from the platform, but she seemed frozen where she was. Ron, unwilling to stand by any longer rushed forward. Harry tried to call out to him, but at that instant, the darkness within the arch collapsed and the chamber was filled with an oppressive silence as light burst from the center of the platform.

Time seemed to flow like tar. Free of her invisible bonds, Hermione was slowly tumbling backward even as Ron hung in the air on his way toward her. The cloaked wizard, moving far faster than anyone else, released the pillar with one hand and in the same motion splayed his bony fingers like a shield between him and it. His other arm shot out like an arrow, with a single finger aimed directly at Ginny. Terror shot through Harry's veins.

An ear shattering explosion rocked the chamber and suddenly every thought, fear, and plan Harry had was washed away in a blast of sound and force which threw him and everyone else to the floor. With his ears still ringing, Harry tried to push himself up. Every inch of his body hurt and he couldn't seem to figure out just which direction was up. He found the floor and pushed against it.

Through the haze in his eyes, he saw the cloaked wizard walking calmly toward him. Only then did he realize that he didn't have his wand. He quickly rolled onto his side and flailed his arms in a frantic attempt to find it, but it was too late. The wizard's boots came to a halt just in front of Harry.

"I am done here," he announced coldly. "You should see to your friend." Harry flinched as a sharp noise broke through the buzzing in his ears. When he looked to see what it was, he saw his wand clattering across the floor while the cloaked wizard turned and walked away.

Slowly, Harry recovered his senses and managed to stand up, though somewhat unsteadily. Everyone else in the chamber was doing the same thing, except for Hermione.

"_Harry!_" Ginny wailed from the bottom of the chamber. She was limping, but she was on her feet. Hermione, on the other hand, was strewn across the lowest steps and had not moved at all. Racing to her side, Ginny crouched down to try and pick her up. With a gasp, she recoiled almost immediately, staring in horror at her hands. One of Ginny's hands was covered in a dark red liquid which Harry recognized too well. The other, however, was streaked with what looked like black oil. Stumbling backward, Ginny tripped over the broken ring and fell onto the stone platform. Her eyes were locked on her black-stained hand as she held it as far away from herself as possible.

"_Scourgify!_" Josef shouted as he bounded down the stairs. The dark oil evaporated quickly leaving Ginny with one hand covered in blood and the other completely clean, though it didn't seem to give her any more comfort. While everyone rushed down to Hermione, she sat on the edge of the platform staring at her immaculate hand and trembling in shock.

Despite his desire to run to Ginny's side, Harry forced himself to stop near Hermione. Lupin and Valencia rushed toward her as well while Tonks was searching the pockets of her robes for something. A quick look at Hermione was every bit as disturbing as Harry expected. Dozens of cuts could be seen all across her body and while none of them were obviously fatal, it was clear that she didn't have much more blood to lose. Even more frightening was the sight of her left arm. In a number of places, her sleek, satin gloves had been sliced open revealing deep wounds. However, the blood flowing from them was exceptionally dark and thick and swirls of black could be seen in the growing pool of it under her arm.

Tonks had retrieved a thick salve and Lupin was already applying it to the deeper cuts. Valencia and Simon had taken other potions and were furiously working on her other injuries while Justinian used his wand to conjure up a large pile of bandages. Small streams of blood were dribbling down and gathering on the steps where the dark blood mixed with the brighter variety.

"We need to move her!" Harry called out over all of them.

Lupin responded without looking up. "Harry, she's in no condition to—"

"_She can't stay there, Remus!_" Harry shouted, pointing at the collecting blood. "Keep the blood from her arm away from _everything_," he urged. "Don't let it touch her and don't let anyone else touch it."

Without an explanation for the request, Lupin and the others were now a little more willing to obey. They quickly picked her up, stripped off her cloak and began bandaging quickly, starting with the left arm and using only wands to do it. Harry barely had time to go see Ginny before he heard Lupin's voice calling out to him.

"We need to get her to a Healer, Harry!" he said. "We've fixed as much as we can, but it will only last so long. I don't know how much time we've got."

"Disapparation won't work," Justinian commented distractedly as he began wrapping another layer of bandages around a particularly bloody wound on Hermione's shoulder. "Not in the castle, at least," he added.

The decision to wake Hermione was made quickly and after a few more bandages and as many potions as Tonks could fetch from her robes, Hermione's eyes finally blinked open. With help from Ron and Justinian, she managed to stand up while Simon wrapped a spare cloak around her to conceal the worst of the bandages. Though she looked alert enough and insisted that she could make it out of the castle, Harry could see the pain she was in. At the time, getting her back to London as quickly as possible seemed to be the very best plan.

From the antechamber, Harry led everyone through the other set of doors and found an old dusty corridor which led neither up nor down. Ron and Simon carried Hermione more than supported her, and with everyone else keeping up their brisk pace, it didn't take them long before the sound of crashing waves could be heard through the walls. Finally, in a design strangely similar to the one in Orasul-de-jos, they found themselves passing through a barred and hidden doorway before climbing a stone stairway into the gatehouse courtyard. Passing quickly through the massive gates, they all came to an abrupt stop at the scene before them.

The _Demeter_, still tied up at the pier, was ablaze with huge flames. Its white sails were little more than charred remnant clinging to smoking timbers. The light from the inferno played across the tips of the waves and made the distant fog glow ominously. Sitting silently in the water halfway between the pier and fog, was the brigantine sailed by the cloaked wizard. Almost as though it had been waiting for them to finally escape, the ship turned slowly and sped up. Silhouetted against the fog, Harry watched as its bow dipped into the sea and the entire ship dove under the waves and disappeared completely.

"It doesn't matter," Josef reminded them. "We have no time for ships. We need to Disapparate. Harry, can you take Hermione?"

Harry nodded, ignoring Hermione's slurred protests that she would be more than able if someone would just give her a wand. Ron accepted this without complaint and even offered to take Valencia with him. She seemed more inclined to give Lupin that honor, but Tonks seemed to disagree.

Such details were unimportant. Josef and Ron offered to leave first and ensure the way was safe. They opted to meet back at the pub North of Varna. From there, they would take the Floo from fireplace to fireplace across Europe until they managed to make it back to London.

While Apparation with a weakened Hermione was more difficult, it didn't present nearly the troubles that using the Floo Network did. Harry, Ron, and Lupin took turns transporting Hermione. Though she made no complaints throughout the journey, Harry could see that it was wearing on her. They had replaced a number of bandages on the way and her eyes were beginning to move even more sluggishly until she could barely keep them open. He felt immense relief at the sight of Ron helping her into the very last fireplace in Marseilles. It would take them back to London and from there they would be only minutes from St. Mungo's.

The moment Harry tumbled out of the fireplace at the _Leaky Cauldron_ he knew something didn't feel right. It was well-known for its ability to gather a crowd at any time of day, but it was well past midnight and yet only a few tables sat empty. As Lupin arrived behind him, Harry helped Ron pull Hermione to her feet and quickly adjusted her cloak to cover her bandages.

"Well, hello there," an old man called out boisterously. He tottered closer, giving them a wide smile and brandishing a half-empty bottle of what looked to be whisky. Something about him looked oddly familiar, but it was impossible to recognize him in the dim light.

"Any of you lot in the mood for a bit of refreshment?" he asked, clearly offering the contents of the bottle.

"No, thanks," Ron replied impatiently. Tonks appeared with a puff of soot and quickly joined the others.

"Ah, well that's very friendly of you," the old man said gruffly. "How about this lovely lady? Surely she can speak for herself."

Ron glared at him. "She doesn't want any either."

"Oh, I don't know about that," the man said as he swayed back and forth trying to match Hermione's empty gaze. "Though she looks like she's already had more than her share. She's your wife then?"

"No," Ron replied, getting more annoyed every second.

A wide grin spread across the man's face. "Perfect," he laughed. "That's just how I like my witches: drunk and unwed." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but the wizard leaned forward suddenly, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Say, I have a room upstairs. Already paid for. I'll take her off your, er... shoulders, I guess, and let you go and do what young wizards do, eh?"

"No, you won't," Ron shouted. "You'll leave while you've still got all your limbs!"

The wizard's smile disappeared. "I see. The protective type," he muttered. "Well perhaps then _you_ might like the room. I'll offer it to you. No charge, of course. I _insist_."

"_Shove off!_" snapped Ron as he pulled his wand. "_I insist._" Frowning and looking around the room, the old man shook his head and reluctantly walked off, leaving Ron with a look of surprised satisfaction.

Ginny walked up from behind Harry. "What's going on, Harry?" she asked. "Why was Ron yelling at Albert?"

Suddenly, Harry realized where he'd seen the old man before. His feeling of foreboding intensified. Another Brotherhood member was alive and he was just trying to talk with Ron. He had a room. He had offered it to them for protection.

Josef tumbled out of the fireplace and stood up. Even before Harry could reach him, his eyes had surveyed the room and he was pulling his wand out. "This was a mistake, Harry," he hissed. "We need to get them all out of here _now!_"

It was too late. A dozen wizards around the room stood up from their chairs and aimed their wands at Harry and the others. Lamps flared to life, filling the room with light and identifying the wizards surrounding them as Aurors. For a moment, Harry was confused. Why were Aurors waiting for them? Why had their drawn their wands as if they were prepared for a fight?

"Harry Potter..." one of the Aurors called out over the din, "...Ginevra Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and all those found traveling with them are under to be held under suspicion for an organized attack on the Bulgarian Ministry."

"By whose authority?" demanded Harry.

"By my authority," announced another wizard as he stepped out from the far corner of the room. With his white hair gleaming in the lamplight and a look of satisfaction in his eyes, Auguste Reynard weaved through the tables to stand in front of Harry.

From his days with the Brotherhood, Harry knew exactly what Reynard was allowed to do. "We didn't attack anyone at the Ministry and even if we did, you'd have no authority to punish us for that."

"I might not be able to hold you or Mr. Weasley," Reynard replied with a sly grin, "but Miss Granger and Miss Weasley are official Ministry employees. Their involvement in such matters is far more serious and well within the Ministry's authority. Until a _full_ explanation is provided, I have no choice but to put them under arrest."

Beside Harry, Ginny only clenched her jaw and glared at Reynard. "Hermione is hurt," Harry said. "She needs a Healer."

"There are a number of Healers at Azkaban Prison," Reynard said with a mocking smile. "Of course they are fond of their sleep. It's not urgent, is it?"

"This is serious," Harry growled. "I don't have time for your power hungry games."

"This isn't a game, _Potter_," Reynard replied with a quick signal to the Aurors. "Take them," he said. "We'll see how cooperative they feel after a few days in Azkaban." Stepping next to Ginny, he stared down at her face with a look of condescending pity. "It's tragic. Such a pretty face. You would be appalled at what even a week in Azkaban can do. So many witches have lost their beauty to that dreadful place."

A number of Aurors struggled to separate Ron from Hermione while another pair grabbed Ginny by the shoulders and began walking her to the door. She looked over her shoulder as she went, staring at Harry with an expression meant to show bravery, though her eyes betrayed her, revealing her fear.

"They didn't do anything!" Harry shouted. "Stop this, now!"

"You wish it to stop, Harry?" Reynard asked smoothly. "Then tell me about the attack. Prove to me that they had no part in it. I have no desire to imprison a pair of young, attractive witches who will no doubt force themselves to waste away before they are finally broken. I don't even care about them. I'm only interested in the one responsible."

"Then take me," announced Josef, surprising everyone in the room. "I am the one responsible for attacking the guards in the vaults under Sofia."

Reynard was livid. "You will remain silent!" he shouted. "

"You have no more reason or right to arrest those witches," Josef declared. "They played no part in the attack. They did not even know that it happened until it was over. I gave them no suggestion that I had even planned to do it."

"You lie!" Reynard snarled threateningly. Around him, the Aurors were standing and casting uncertain glances at each other.

"I am not lying," Josef said calmly. "I am telling the truth and I will agree to provide enough information to prove this to your Minister."

"The Minister!" the older wizard scoffed. "You'll go straight to Azkaban!"

Josef's expression hardened and he stepped closer to Reynard. "No, I won't. Neither will Ginny or Hermione. They have done nothing wrong and the actions of a Romanian wizard in Bulgaria are certainly not the business of the British Ministry."

"We will see," growled Reynard. "Arrest this man," he commanded. "I believe him to be involved in the attack on the Ministry last July. Release Miss Weasley"

"What about Hermione?" Ginny objected as she pulled herself away from the Aurors and strode across the room toward him. "You can't take her. She's innocent."

"Are you blind, girl?" Reynard said in a condescending tone. "Miss Granger is seriously injured. She can barely stand."

"We were taking her to St. Mungo's before you tried to arrest us!"

"Nonsense," he replied. Brushing Ginny aside, Reynard grabbed Hermione by her shoulder and began walking her toward the doorway to Diagon Alley. "We have Healers in the Department of Mysteries who are much more experienced with this sort of thing."

Ron and Ginny rushed forward in a futile attempt to stop him, but the rest of the Aurors quickly stepped in front of them while Josef and Hermione were spirited away.

Both of them were rather upset and it took quite some time for Harry to calm them down. Though Hermione's fate was a little more troubling, he knew that Reynard had been speaking the truth. The wizards in the Department of Mysteries would be even better suited to help Hermione than your average Healer at St. Mungo's. There was still the worry about what she might go through after she was healed, but it couldn't be any worse than the alternative.

Josef was a different matter. Ginny was positively distraught at the sacrifice he'd made for her but Harry understood the truth. He'd known very well what he was doing. As he said, Reynard couldn't very well punish him for crimes he'd committed elsewhere and since he truly had been the one who'd attacked the guards, the Ministry couldn't try to blame anyone else. It seemed like a perfect plan, yet Harry found Reynard's reaction somewhat less encouraging. Though he didn't speak of it to Ginny, he wondered if Josef's history with the Brotherhood might complicate matters.

Tonks and Lupin tried to reassure Ron that Hermione would be alright. He nodded his head in a way that said he hadn't even been listening to them. With nothing more to do, Lupin, Tonks, Simon and Valencia all made their way back to Hogwarts. Only Justinian remained behind, explaining that he'd told McGonagall he wouldn't be back until the next morning. Instead he sat at the bar and waved to them as the left.

* * *

The next morning, Ginny and Harry reported to the Ministry with the hope of hearing something about Hermione's condition. Instead, they got only confused looks. It was clear that Reynard was keeping Hermione's situation a complete secret. Not even Harrington and Mrs. Reading were able to find any information about her. Carmilla, the receptionist, promised that she would try to see what rumors she might hear, but beyond that, there was nothing at all to hear. 

Josef was less of a secret, as Reynard had been forced —rather reluctantly it was said— to hand him over to the Aurors. They were busy investigating a huge list of claims Reynard made. Harry and Ginny were ordered to stay well away from any of the Aurors who might be involved.

The next day passed without any news and the day after was no different. Harry was becoming rather anxious but there was little he could do. There had been a time when he might have been able to turn to the Brotherhood, and now that they were gone, he began to see just why they had banded together in the first place. No matter how much influence Harry might have had, there was simply nothing one wizard could do to help his friends.

The first sign of news came at the end of the week. Carmilla sent an owl to Harry saying that the house-elves had been ordered to start bringing meals to one of the interrogation rooms in the Department of Mysteries. It could almost be believed that it was for Josef, but it was accompanied by reports that Josef had been scheduled for a trial in front of the Wizengamot the following Wednesday. Until then, he was being held in a cell near the Auror Office. This meant that the one being interrogated must be Hermione and she must have been healthy enough to eat.

Ron and Ginny were relieved and upset at the same time. It seemed obvious that even though Hermione was mostly healed, she was still not being released. Ron took it upon himself to see that this would be changed as soon as possible. Ginny would have helped him, but she was forced to travel to Germany over the weekend to prepare for yet another round of World Cup matches. Harry decided it would be best for everyone if he simply remained quiet.

The days until Josef's trial crawled along. Following his decided strategy, Harry stayed at Grimmauld Place the entire day, knowing that someone would send word of the final decision. As expected, Harry heard a knock at his door late that morning. When he opened the door he found Josef himself standing on the threshold. After delivering the somewhat surprising news that the trial had been canceled after Reynard refused to present any evidence at all for his claims, Josef immediately asked to speak with Hermione.

He was quite upset when Harry told him that Hermione still hadn't been released. He chastised Harry, saying that Ron had the right idea from the start and that Harry should have spent his days trying to help as much as he could. He ranted and paced around the kitchen for ten minutes before stopping so he could start giving Harry orders.

Things always seemed to happen faster when Josef was involved. In a week, Ron hadn't been able to do much more than meet with the Head of the Aurors. In just one day, Josef had arranged a meeting with Scrimgeour and a number of other influential witches and wizards. Ron nearly hugged him when he found out what he'd done.

The next day Harry returned to the Ministry for the first time in a week and found a large group of people waiting for him. Standing at the forefront was Ferdinand Harrington and Professor McGonagall. Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin stood nearby along with a Healer from St. Mungo's. With Ron and Ginny following close behind him, Harry led the group of them into the Minister's office.

The meeting was both quicker and more encouraging than Harry had expected. Presented with such an array of supporters, Scrimgeour had trouble ignoring their pleas and became concerned when Harrington and Mr. Weasley reported that there was still no explanation given for Hermione's disappearance. When he heard about Reynard's personal involvement, his expression soured. He stood up and gestured toward the door, making Harry fear the worst. Instead, the truth was quite the opposite. In a voice strained by anger, he promised that Reynard would be reminded of his duties and that Hermione would be released immediately.

The next day, Ginny fabricated an excuse to leave the office and wait for Hermione with Ron and Harry. Together, they sat at the fountain in the Ministry Atrium watching the security gate. Shortly after the morning rush of employees had subsided, Ron spotted Hermione stepping from one of the lifts, flanked by a pair of serious-looking wizards. She looked hardly any happier than they did, but after walking through the gate and spotting them, she flashed a weak smile.

Ron rushed to her and they embraced, though it was clear that something still troubled Hermione.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I— I don't want you to think I'm not thankful —I really am— but... Reynard is really angry. I refused to talk and then... then he had to let Josef and and when Scrimgeour found out what he was doing...

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked. "What's happened?"

"I've been sacked," she announced.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Ron said slowly. "Reynard was an arrogant berk. Why would you want to work for a wizard like him?"

"It's not just that," she said. "They took all my things. All my books and everything I've worked on. I can never work for the Ministry again. I had to agree to it or they'd... send me to Azkaban for submitting false reports." She wiped a tear from her eye. "They're even kicking me out of my flat."

"It will be alright," Ginny said comfortingly. "There's plenty of room at Number Twelve. You and Ron can have the entire third floor."

At first this didn't seem to comfort Hermione all that much, but she didn't protest or suggest any alternatives. Without further delay, they all returned to Grimmauld Place where Josef was waiting for them. After pacing about impatiently while Harry tracked down Kreacher and had him tidy one of the rooms on the third floor, Josef pulled Hermione aside to ask her what Reynard had been questioning her about. They spoke quietly in a corner while Ron and Ginny worked in the kitchen. When lunch was finished, Josef seemed more relaxed, though he brushed aside all of Harry's attempts to find out what he'd learned.

The next day, the five of them met at the _Leaky Cauldron_ shortly after noon. The Ministry had graciously decided to allow her a whole day to remove anything she cared about from her old flat. The furniture had been removed already, taken in the night by Ministry house-elves. Harry suggested that the Hogwarts house-elves might help with the rest, but Hermione would have none of it. Instead, Harry had managed to get a collection of old trunks from the goblins at Gringotts. They planned to fill them and take them back to the mansion on Grimmauld Place all at once rather than making dozens of trips throughout the afternoon.

At the start, they moved with rapid efficiency, loading each trunk and walking it down to the lobby three floors below. Within an hour, their pace had slacked off and their work became a little more haphazard. There was nothing happy about the atmosphere and it was clear that the other occupants of the building had been told to keep well clear of them. When everything was packed, they each grabbed a trunk and Disapparated. It took a second trip to transport the rest of them, and after that Hermione said she wanted to go back one last time to see that she had not left anything important.

Wearily, they returned to the street outside the flat and began climbing the stairs one last time. Upon reaching the landing, Hermione suddenly froze, forcing Harry to nearly fall back down the last flight of stairs in his attempt to avoid knocking her over. He was about to complain when he noticed her staring at the door to her flat with a look of fear.

He reacted immediately and without even thinking. In a second his wand was out and he had crossed the landing to her door. Ron, Josef and Ginny were running up the steps behind him. Without waiting for them, he flicked his wand at the door handle. With a sharp _click_ it flew open and he dashed through.

He was prepared for some sort of ambush but found nothing at all. The flat was quiet and empty, just as they had left it. Ron and Josef walked up behind him holding their wands at the ready. Ginny hung back a little further, apparently not wanting to abandon Hermione, who refused to step beyond the doorway.

As they crept past the kitchen and toward the main room, Harry could feel his scar beginning to throb. A quick glance at Ron and Josef warned them about his feeling. Stopping briefly at the final corner before entering the room, Harry prepared himself. With a deep breath and a quick moment of concentration, he jumped around the corner, with Ron and Josef not far behind them. The afternoon sun filtered through a pair of large windows, tossing two shafts of warm light against the far wall. Searching the room, Harry's eyes quickly picked out a pale shape hiding in a dim corner opposite the windows. For a moment, he almost thought it was a ghost.

"Put your wands away," a woman's voice softly commanded them.

As his eyes adjusted to the shadows, Harry could see the small figure of a woman crouching against the wall, her hands and arms curled against her chest. As Harry inched closer, he saw that she was barefoot and wearing a gown of some light, flimsy material which blended into the sickly pallor of her skin. She was hunched over and staring down at the floor, her face hidden behind a matted curtain of copper hair.

"Please, lower your wands," she repeated. "I don't want to attack you." Her voice was stern but quiet, with a faint quaver as though she were trembling. "I'm tired of fighting," she said.

Josef lowered his wand and began walking toward her. For once, it was Harry who was thinking clearly. He quickly reached out to grab Josef before he could get any closer. He glared angrily at Harry.

"We need to be careful," cautioned Harry. "She's not herself."

Lucy's hair swayed slightly as she chuckled softly. "If only that were true," she said remorsefully. "I think I'm tired of being myself as well. I'm tired of my thoughts and my fears. I'm tired of my actions and having to feel the consequences."

"Why should we trust you?" asked Harry.

"I never said you should," she replied heavily. "You were right to point your wands at me. I would if I were in your position, and if you were in mine, you would tell me there was no point and that you would do the same if our positions were reversed. And so, we would come full circle, leaving us in a room with you pointing a wand at someone who has no will to fight back."

Lowering his wand slowly, Harry tried to understand what it all meant. She looked sickly and weak, but her behavior was strangely cold and defensive. "Why are you here?"

"I told you I would come," she droned. "I said that if I ever needed to find you, then I would. So here I am."

"I came looking for you, but you were gone." Josef asked as he slowly approached her. "I did everything I could think of to contact you. There were no messages, no clues."

"I've been busy," she replied flatly.

"Where were you?"

"All I wanted was happiness," she whimpered. "Was that so much to ask? No one else seems to have trouble finding it, but I've felt so little of it that I don't even know where to look. What crime am I guilty of? What have I done to deserve this life? I didn't ask for everything. I just wanted this one thing. All I had to give was patience and loyalty. I waited... Harry left and I waited for..."

"I came back as quickly as I could," Josef said.

"Not quick enough," she whispered. She stopped shivering and her voice became a little clearer. "I know I wasn't supposed to know about them, but I did. I knew about the others you saved. I knew that they helped you, and some of them knew about me. A few of us had started exchanging message. After Harry left, I sent messages out telling them what I'd learned, but no replies ever came back. It was too late for them. It was too late for all of us."

Looking a little closer at Lucy, Harry could see that the nightgown she was wearing was made of white silk. It's color was dulled in many places by dust or dirt and its clean, elegant design marred by a multitude of darker spots scattered all over the gown. Harry inched a little to one side to get a better look and found a large, dark red smear along her hip. It looked like blood.

"Lucy, are you hurt?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she shot back with a hard edge to her voice.

Josef seemed to have noticed it as well. "Lucy," he began in calming tons. "You've got blood on your nightgown. If you've been injured we should have a Healer take a look at it." He began walking forward to inspect her.

"It's not a mortal wound, I assure you," she replied.

Josef continued toward her. "Please, let me take a look—"

"Stay back!" she shouted, throwing her head back and glaring at both of them from behind colorless eyes. "Don't— Don't touch me! Don't come any closer," she growled. Harry could see the muscles in her arms and legs tightening as though she was preparing to pounce. Harry held out his hands in a sign of submission and stepped away. Josef simply stopped where he stood and crouched down to try and look at her.

"What happened, Lucy?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Terrible things," she whispered. "I left Athens. I— Something bad happened. I began searching for the rest of them."

"Have you been hiding all this time?"

"No," she said, shaking her head weakly. "I kept moving, kept searching. A week ago I arrived in Paris," she continued in a faint whisper. "I went to look for Catherine. She was the only one left. I went to the usual meeting spot, but she wasn't there. She knew... what was coming. She was hiding. It took me a week... a week to find her. It was just he two of us. Th-then... there was a... an attack... a horrible attack."

"Where is Catherine?" Josef asked gently.

"She's dead," Lucy said with a hollow voice.

Josef's head slumped a little, but he recovered quickly and continued his questioning. "Were you there? Did you see who did it?" Lucy nodded slowly. After glancing over at Harry for a moment, Josef turned his attention back to Lucy. "Were they wearing a dark, tattered cloak?" She shook her head. "Did you recognize them?" Lucy nodded again and slowly extended her arms, turning her palms out to Harry and Josef, showing them the fresh bloodstains which covered hands past her wrists.

"It was me," she said weakly. Slowly, she raised her head to stare at the two of them with nearly colorless eyes.

Josef recoiled instinctively and struggled to find a response. "You— but—" he stammered. "I don't understand, how could you..."

"I was taught well," Lucy announced with cheerless pride. "I tracked her down. I found her and ripped open her throat so no one would hear her scream when I tore her heart from her chest."

The sudden force of her words was horrifying and yet this was only the start. As she had spoken, her lips had curled back to reveal a set of gleaming fangs. Instantly, both Harry and Josef leaped away and reached for their wands. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ginny running around the corner with her wand drawn as well.

Lucy paid no attention to any of them. She was staring at her hands again and trembling as if she were just as horrified by what she was saying. "She didn't even fight back," she continued. "She saw me and... she understood. She knew why I was there."

"The others—" prompted Josef. "Did you—"

"Every last one."

"W-Why?" Josef gasped.

"Because I saw them for what they really were!" she snapped. "After Harry left, I returned to Athens and I waited and then... a wizard in a dark cloak found me. He told me things. He_showed_ me things, things no one could know, things that haven't even happened yet. He showed me the crimes they had committed and all the disgusting things they'd done. I couldn't—" he voice faltered for a moment, "—couldn't let them live. They had to pay."

She stared down at the floor as if afraid to look into Josef's eyes. "He showed me what they had done... and then he gave me the power to see that they paid for their actions. He said it was a gift. He said I should feel proud, but I only felt anger. I didn't care about anything but vengeance for what they had done."

"It wasn't you," Josef told her in an attempt to comfort her. "It was him. He made you do it."

"No," she replied. Her voice was cold and utterly without emotion or remorse. "He never told me what to do. He didn't tell me where to go. He didn't need to. I knew where to start looking. I knew what to do when I found them. The first one... was unlucky. The second chose to fight. By the twelfth, I no longer found pleasure in watching them die, but I knew it had to be done. Justice needed to be done, and it was my right to see that it was done swiftly."

Harry didn't know what to say. It was hard enough to accept that she had killed so many witches and wizards, but the idea that she'd done it willingly was incomprehensible. Josef seemed to be having even more trouble. He fell to his knees and just stared at Lucy in bewildered shock.

Harry finally managed to gather his thoughts. "What did he tell you?" he asked her. "What did they do to deserve it?"

"Why do you want to know?" she replied softly. "Perhaps you're wondering if you're guilty of similar crimes. Rest assured, Harry, you are not innocent." The sudden intensity in her voice was worrisome and without thinking, Harry found himself tightening his grip on his wand. She noticed and gave him a curious smile.

"Are you afraid of me now?" she asked in a frighteningly melodic tone. "I can remember a time when that wasn't true. Has your desire for me cooled in just two months?"

Harry glared at her, uncertain of what she was trying to do. "I never had any desire for you."

"Oh, come now, Harry" she purred. "We both know that's not true." Though she was facing Harry, her eyes slipped off to covertly watch Ginny's reaction. "You don't remember? You've already forgotten the touch of my lips, the heat of our breath mixing, the sound of my robes ripping. Have you forgotten the afternoon of passion we shared in my bedchamber?"

"That's not what happened!" he declared, feeling the glares of both Ginny and Josef.

Her eyes twitched mischievously. "Isn't it? You deny all of it? We never embraced? Your lips never pressed against mine?"

"We never spent the—"

"Then deny it, Harry!" she said in a commanding tone. She raised a bloody hand to point at Ginny. "Don't tell me. Tell her. If it is a lie, then look into her eyes and tell her that it never happened. Tell her that we have never kissed!"

Without thinking, Harry turned and found Ginny staring at him, fear and confusion swirling behind her eyes. His hesitation had already given her the answer.

"It was only an act," he offered in explanation.

"And a _superb_ one at that," Lucy commented. "It was very convincing. So good that one might question just how many other times you have done it."

Harry scowled at her. "We kissed. It was nothing more than a way to distract the guards. The rest of it is all a lie," he announced.

"Just a kiss?" replied Lucy, A disturbing smile spread across her face as she turned toward Ginny. "Perhaps it was, but despite all his promises and assurances, you'll always wonder just how much of the truth he has told you. You must know that there are other things he doesn't tell you. He has just admitted to a kiss. How much more is he hiding? Ask him. See if his answers can convince you."

"Lucy, _stop this_," Josef commanded. "You've done enough."

"No! I haven't!" she snapped back at him. Her pale eyes narrowed on Harry as she leaned forward slightly.

"You wish to know why I am here?" she asked. "I came here to see _her_," she announced, pointing toward Ginny again. "I wanted to finally meet the one who has caused this world so much pain. I wanted to see her for myself. I hadn't imagined she would look so... weak," she said with a look of disgust. "I always assumed it would take amazing strength to commit such an atrocity."

"I haven't done anything," Ginny insisted. "This... cloaked wizard is wrong. He's convinced himself that I am someone I'm not."

"Can you trust her, Harry? Lucy asked. "You, who have hidden so much from her, can you believe her when you have been carrying the proof for so long. Open your eyes, Harry. She is the cause. She is the one who must pay," she said through clenched teeth, exposing her fangs. "She deserves death many times over for what she has done. To give her the same death Catherine received would be an act of supreme mercy and forgiveness, though I would gladly give it to her."

"But you can't," Josef said, breaking the silence he'd fallen into. "He won't let you, will he? You might have come here to see her, but it's more than that. You could have stayed in the shadows and watched us for weeks, satisfying whatever desires you had to see her.

"Perhaps I wished to see you again," she suggested.

"I wish that were true, but I doubt it. You are barely willing to look at me, and when you do, your eyes are filled with shame and fear. You didn't come here searching for happiness," he said heavily. "Neither were you searching for vengeance. You, too, are hiding the truth," he announced. "You wear your anger and hatred like a mask, obscuring the real reasons you came here, but why? You have not attacked any of us. You have made no demands. At worst, you have made a clumsy attempt to breed dissent among us." He paused and suddenly perked up.

"It isn't us whom you are hiding your intentions from," he announced, as though the thought surprised him as much as everyone else. "The cloaked wizard, he didn't tell you to find us. He doesn't want you here. You came here to... to try and help us understand."

Lucy shook her head dramatically. "I came here to teach Ginny the price for her betrayal! I came here to make her see what she has done."

"I haven't betrayed anyone," Ginny insisted yet again. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"It doesn't matter," Lucy replied stiffly. "You were there at the beginning. This is all your fault. You are the cause. Your betrayal has brought this upon us all. Was it worth it? Is your existence worth so much more than mine? Is it worth more than the hundreds who have died for your mistake?"

"How is that possible?" Josef prompted. "These things happened thousands of years ago."

Lucy swallowed and took a deep breath as though speaking was difficult. "She is different, but... it is still her," she said. "He recognized her. He hasn't forgotten... He can't forget. She was supposed to be pure and perfect. She was supposed to be a divine spirit, something to give him balance. Together, they would have brought peace to the world. Instead, she betrayed him."

"What are you talking about?" Josef continued pressing her. "When did this happen? What did she do to betray him? Where did she go?"

"We have no time for folktales," Harry interrupted. "Do you know anything about a jewel?"

A sour expression came across Lucy's face and she nodded slowly. "The Jewel of Darkness," she replied flatly. "He is looking for the Jewel of Darkness."

"What is it?" Ron asked. "Why does he want it so badly?"

Lucy shook her head slowly. "You're wrong. He doesn't want it at all."

Harry and the others exchanged confused looks. "If he doesn't want it, then why does he keep demanding that we give it to him?"

"He fears the Jewel, but not as much as he fears the Jewel in your hands. He seeks to—"

With a sudden gasp of pain, Lucy fell to her knees and clawed at the wooden floor. At Harry side, Josef seemed to be fighting the urge to leap to her side. With a faint, piteous wail, her neck curled back revealing a troubling sight. Her eyes were solid black and her teeth had already turned a smoky grey. After another shudder, she collapsed forward with a whimper. Still gasping for breath, she pushed herself back up and wiped away a thin trickle of darkened blood from under her nose.

"It doesn't matter why he wants the Jewel," she panted as her eyes faded back to their previous, disturbingly pale color. "You must give it to him. You have no choice." Everyone stood in stunned silence. Clutching her hands together to keep them from shaking, she stared up at Harry. "The consequences of are too... too horrific to imagine. He must have it."

"No," Harry declared firmly. "I'll never give him the Jewel."

"I believe you," she replied with a faint laugh. The laugh quickly became a hoarse cough and she doubled over again, coughing until blood was dripping from her lips. Though it horrified everyone else, she didn't seem to care. "He will have it. He cannot be denied. As you can see, his will is strong. Try to defy him all you like. You will fail."

"How can you know that?"

"Because you and I share something in common, Harry," she said, blood still dripping off her chin. "Of course, I was not as fortunate. I was cursed with these," she said, baring her long, pointed teeth again. "If I had been given a choice, I think I would have preferred the scar."

Harry stared at her for a moment, trying to ignore the tingling in his forehead. "No," he said defiantly. "That's not the same at all."

"Are you so sure? Voldemort is gone. How has your scar been feeling, Harry?"

Harry felt his heart pounding. "It's not possible. You're lying again. It's just a trick. He's afraid of me. He's just using this as way to make me fear him."

"No, Harry. You're the one who is wrong. You have no idea what you're facing. He is more than a wizard," she said in a more subdued voice. "He used to be a wizard once, the very first wizard." Harry perked up immediately and looked over toward Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They were equally shocked.

"He was there before any others, waiting for them. But he wasn't like them. When they found him, his power was already immense."

"It wasn't enough," commented Harry. "They found a way to stop him. Together, they were stronger than he was. That's why he's trying to drive us apart. He knows that it could happen again."

"No, Harry," she said again. "They didn't stop him. They couldn't. No one can."

"Then what does he have to fear?" replied Harry. "What use is secrecy to someone who cannot be defeated? He knows we are a danger to him. He fears what we might do with the Jewel of Darkness. I _will_ find it."

"You cannot defeat him, Harry," she warned him with a grave expression. "The Jewel is even more of a threat to you than it is to him. You do not understand the danger it poses to you."

"Then help us," he begged her. "Help us find the Jewel. Help us defeat him. You know him. You can tell us how to stop him."

"And what if I do?" she replied. "Do you think he will let me? Do you think it is easy? Would you be able to trust me?"

"You can fight him," Harry said, sounding almost as if he were pleading with her. "You are strong. I've seen it. You can find a way. I know it."

Her eyes narrowed. "And, in the end, what would I get for my agony?"

"You get to live," he answered. "That is more than he will give you."

"Is this life?" she asked bitterly. "Is this what you're offering me? I should help you and in exchange, you will give me an eternity of the torturous existence he has brought to me. You would do his work for him, just as you always have. No. All I have is my hatred and desire for revenge. If you would succeed, you would take that as well."

"Will you get any better offer from him?" countered Harry. "You said you saw the things he'd done in the past. How many times has he shown mercy? What makes you think that you're any different?"

"He couldn't see it," she said in a controlled tone. "I'm nothing to him. I was nothing but a puppet, a plaything to use and manipulate and torture while he waited for the one he really wanted. With all his attention elsewhere, he didn't even realize what he'd missed."

"What didn't he see?" Harry asked, opting to keep the focus away from Ginny.

A shaky smile spread across her pale lips, revealing her dark fangs again. "I'm not one of them," she whispered. Her face was totally blank, but Harry could see a troubling excitement in her eyes. "I use to be weak. I used to let everyone control me. I'm stronger now. I'll never let that happen again. He thinks he has me, but he's wrong. He can't see it. He's blinded by her."

"What do you mean?" he pressed her. "What is he planning to do?"

Lucy ignored him. "You were right, Harry. I am strong. Stronger than he thought. Your battle is your own. I have already won mine." She shifted slightly so that she was crouching on her feet again and her eyes filled with a feral excitement.

"I was a slave once," she announced. "Never again."

In a single swift motion, she sprang forward. Panicked shouts filled the small flat and Harry twisted away, reaching for his wand to fend off the next attempt. However, instead of stopping and turning on him, Lucy continued on her path with frightening speed. Halfway across the room, a piercing shriek filled the small space as her legs seemed to buckle underneath her. She was stumbling, but it was too late. Her head and shoulders struck the window on the far side of the room, shattering it with an explosion of glass and splintered wood. An instant later, she disappeared, her bare feet sailing through the opening.

For a moment, the entire room was silent. They simply stood transfixed on the broken window as if wondering when the dream might end. Then a horrible, tortured wailing began drifting up from the street below. Running to the window, Harry leaned out to see what was happening. Josef was right behind him.

A wide opening had formed in the afternoon crowd walking down Diagon Alley. In its center was the shape of a small girl in a white nightgown. She was lying on her side and screaming in agony. A few brave wizards stepped forward to try and help her, but they quickly backed away as she began moving. Twitching and shaking in pain, she pushed herself onto her back and stared up into the afternoon sky.

Fresh screams erupted from her throat, but they were more shrill and raspy. Harry watched in disgust as her alabaster skin darkened to a sickening, blotchy red. Around her, the witches and wizards who had stopped to investigate were turning to flee. Slowly, her cries became more forced. Her skin turned from red to black and Harry almost thought he could hear her laughing through her screams. After only a few more seconds, her cries tapered off into a thin wail and disappeared, leaving the street in utter silence.

Harry turned away from the scene and found Ginny staring at him as if she were waiting for him to give some explanation of what he'd seen, but it was unnecessary.

"What just happened?" Ron asked. He was still clutching his wand in his hand, prepared for an attack that wouldn't come.

"She did it," Ginny replied. Though she made no attempt to walk toward the window and see for herself, her eyes remained locked on the broken frame. "She did what Mira couldn't. She found a way to kill herself. She knew she could do it because she'd seen the future and realized that she wasn't one of the people the cloaked wizard had claimed."

"She could have helped us," Harry said.

"Mira thought the same thing, Harry," Ginny said with a slight nod toward the spot where Josef had slumped against the wall. "We couldn't ask her to make that sacrifice. This was the best she could hope for. We should all be happy that she doesn't have to suffer any longer."

Taking the cue from Ginny, Harry looked over toward Josef and found him still slumped against the wall, his face pale and sickly with a hollow look in his eyes. Sitting completely still, he stared at the shadowy spot where Lucy had been only moments ago. There was something deeply troubling about his catatonic state.

"Josef?" Harry called gently. "Josef, are you alright?"

"No..." he whispered, barely moving his mouth. "No, I'm afraid I'm not alright, Harry."

"Is there anything we—"

"It must be stopped," he muttered, his eyes twitching from one spot on the floor to another. "There must be some way to stop it. This has to end. There must be an end. I can't... I can't believe this is how it's meant to go."

"It won't. We're not giving up," Harry told him. "We will do whatever it takes to see that he pays for what he's done."

Josef gave Harry an intense glare. "He knows us, Harry. He knows our fears. He knows how to hurt us. We can't fight him. He feeds off our fear and hatred. He knows our every move before we make it. It's not possible—" He buried his face in his hands. "We're missing something," he said in a louder voice. "There something we're not seeing. It's the one thing we need to stop him, but he's hiding it from us."

"We'll find it," Harry said. "Lucy has already pointed us in the right direction. We need to find the Jewel."

"The Jewel of Darkness," Josef whispered to himself. "She knew what it was. She knew too much about it, Harry. Something was wrong about the way she talked about it. It wasn't natural, it wasn't... _her_. Be careful, Harry. I fear what might happen if you continue looking for this Jewel."

"If he's afraid of us finding it, then that's just what I'm going to do."

"Then I wish you good luck," Josef said as he pushed himself onto his feet again. "It looks as if I have other business to attend to." With a cold, emotionless expression, he straightened his robes, placed his wand back in his pocket and walked toward the door with stiff, heavy strides.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

Josef stopped at the door, but refused to look at any of them. "I can't leave her lying in the street. Not like that."

"I'll help you," offered Harry. "We'll see that—"

"No. I'll do it alone," interrupted Josef. "I... think I need some time... to think," he said haltingly. "I think I need some time alone."

"What if we need to find you?" asked Harry. "What if something—"

"Look for me in Paris," Josef replied flatly. "I need to find Catherine as well. She still has family in Edinburgh. They deserve to know what has happened to their niece. After that... I don't know. I don't know what we can do. I suppose we wait for him to show himself again. All we can really do now is fight where we can and hope that the next to die isn't someone close to us."

As he opened the door and stepped out, Harry called out to him, trying to sound encouraging: "We'll find a way to stop him. I swear it."

Looking back over his shoulder one last time, Josef stared back at Harry with empty eyes and spoke in a voice weighed down with defeat: "I wish I had your optimism, Harry."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This chapters should have given some better information to all of you who wanted to learn a little more information about the villain. And Lucy came back, just like a promised people. Of course, it may not have been the way they wanted it, but sometimes these things simply must be done.

The next chapter is already well on its way. Everyone should enjoy it. It's got a decent amount of action, almost reminiscent of Chapter 8 of 'Ring of Gold'. 


	11. The Drunken Monkey

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

**The Drunken Monkey**

* * *

The two weeks after Josef left passed with a slow, plodding pace that Harry found almost intolerable. He hadn't expected to see Josef the day after the horrible events in Hermione's old flat, or even the day after that. If he was honest with himself, even Harry was still dealing with the shock of it. 

The pain he'd seen in Lucy's eyes, the hope and excitement she'd displayed at the thought of her death, it made him realize what was at stake. The next night he had woken up after a nightmare where instead of Lucy and Josef, it had been Ginny staring up at him with tearful eyes as she wished for an end to the pain. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that. It was too real, too possible. If they failed, he had little doubt that this vision would come true.

He never voiced this fear to Ginny, yet something about her behavior made it clear that she understood. Ron and Hermione didn't seem to be taking it any better. While Harry's fears were little more than bad nightmares, Hermione's were based on something much more concrete. The marks on her arm had not stopped and the Healers in the Department of Mysteries hadn't even managed to slow them down. For Hermione and Ron, Lucy wasn't so much a warning of possible consequences, as she was a glimpse at an almost inevitable future.

After four days, Harry started wondering just when Josef might return. He had expected to hear some news from him by then, but there was still nothing. When he mentioned this, Ginny was quick to warn Harry not go looking for him.

"Give him time, Harry," she said as they sat in the parlor. "I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. These things don't get better after just a few days."

"What if it's not that," Harry replied carefully. He didn't want to think about it any more than anyone else, but he felt someone needed to say it. "What if he went looking for the cloaked wizard? What if the cloaked wizard came looking for him?"

"If either of those are true, then we'd be too late to do anything anyway," she answered. Her voice was firm but Harry could hear a hint of sadness as well. Obviously, she was just as worried as he was.

The morale around Number Twelve Grimmauld Place dropped as low as it had ever been since the fight against Voldemort. Hermione had taken Harry up on the offer of having the third floor to herself and was now rarely seen outside of it. Except for the occasional evening meal and sporadic journeys into the outside world, usually during the night.

Ginny and Ron continued reporting to the Ministry. Knowing nothing of the danger lurking in the shadows, the rest of the world seemed to be getting even more caught up in the Quidditch World Cup tournament, and both of them were needed for the next match. It was causing some difficulty and Britain had been selected as the country to supply officials in order to avoid any more concerns.

The problem was caused by the French team. After a miraculous win over the Russians, the they were preparing for their next match against the Italians. Neither had been expected to make it as far as they had. The Italians were short on players, having lost both a Keeper and one of their best Chasers in the attacks at Cornwall. The French were simply short on talent and seemed to be winning on nothing less than uncannily good luck. This caused some amount of suspicion from the other teams and a tense situation when it was revealed that the match was scheduled to be held in Belgium. This was seen by the Italians as unfairly close to France.

Together with the Ministries of Austria and Denmark, the British Ministry helped work out a compromise. The match was to be held in Vienna and organized by officials from Denmark and Britain. This meant that Ginny would be spending long nights at the Ministry trying to set up a World Cup Quidditch match in just two weeks.

Ron found the whole situation almost humorous, since neither the French nor the Italians were seen as serious contenders for the Championship. Any laughing he might have done about it was silenced early the next week when he found out that he had been removed from the Germany match and assigned to this new contest.

"What's the point?" he had mumbled during dinner that night. "It's like a pair of goats fighting to see who gets to hunt the dragon, except in this case, the French goat is missing a leg —and blind. It's a bloody waste of time."

Harry agreed, though his reasons were different. He was beginning to wish that the World Cup would be canceled, since it seemed to be clouding everyone's minds and keeping them from seeing all the signs that a truly dangerous situation was brewing. The attack in Bulgaria had been reported, much like the deaths in Carthage, yet no one seemed to get all that worried about them. The Bulgarian Ministry claimed they knew who had done it and that there wasn't much to worry about, neglecting to say anything about their fears of what might have happened on the island. The next day, the one of the Chasers on the Norwegian team had accidentally poisoned himself while trying to fix a minor bruise and no one even spent an extra moment thinking about the events in Bulgaria.

If that had been the end of it, Harry might not have minded. Lacking the desire to find anything else to print, the _Daily Prophet_ and every other printed journal seemed to fill the majority of its pages with empty news about the World Cup: how unexpected the outcomes were that year, how much trouble the security wizards were causing, the goblin's protest over matches they felt had been tampered with, and interviews with any player who wasn't seen as mediocre. The resulting deluge left Harry sifting through stacks of copies searching for the short filler stories that might give him clues about what the cloaked wizard might be up to.

After another week of seeing nothing, he finally started spotting a number of troubling events. The first was in Belgrade. An old castle near the center of the city collapsed one night, killing a small number of wizards. There was no explanation for its destruction and no reason to be suspicious except for the fact that it had been sealed by the Ministry for decades.

A few days later, there was news of a bizarre vampire attack in Greece. While investigating reports of strange noises under an old palace in Rhodes, a group of wizards were brutally killed by a pair of vampires who fled into the night. Later that week, rumors began circulating that the Polish Minister of Magic had fallen ill with a disease that none of the Healers could identify. The Ministry building in Warsaw was put under quarantine until it could be identified. His death was announced just two days later.

It was still happening. The attacks were still occurring and there was nothing that he or anyone else could do to stop them. Harry stopped looking for the attacks. There was nothing he could do to stop them and it did him no good to learn about the locations of the Veils after they were destroyed. He remembered how angry the cloaked wizard had gotten when he'd nearly been pushed through the Veil. They had to pose some threat to him, but it wasn't enough to know that. Everyone knows you can kill a dragon by cutting off its head; the hard part is actually _doing_ it.

He needed help. He needed Josef. He began to wish that the Brotherhood was still around. Perhaps that was why the cloaked wizard had started with them. With all they knew about the Veils and their connections around Europe, they would have made an almost insurmountable force against any dark wizard. Only Josef had survived, and now even he had disappeared.

* * *

The day of the match match arrived, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the quiet mansion. As usual, Hermione kept to the third floor while Harry spent the day in the parlor paging through the small library of books he'd collected on the subject of the Veils. There was little information in them that he hadn't memorized long ago, but it helped to pass the time. 

Late that afternoon, he heard a light tapping on the window. Walking over to it, he found an small, dark brown owl perched patiently on the windowsill. The moment the window was opened, it dove into the room, circled Harry once, let out a sharp _hoot_ as it dropped a sealed envelope and then left with a soft rustle of feathers. Opening the envelope, Harry found a single piece of parchment folded three times. In its center was written a single sentence:

_Ferdinand Harrington requests your presence._

Harry scowled at the note. He was waiting for Ginny and Ron to return. The last thing he wanted to do was run off on some worthless errand for Harrington, especially when it was probably nothing more than reporting the final score of the match to some self-absorbed politician. He considered throwing the note into the fire, but stopped himself. It was probably a pointless task, yet there was always a chance that it was something more. Even if it was a waste of his time, Harrington had been more than accommodating and Harry had no desire to lose the inside information he could provide.

Harry arrived at the Ministry in the midst of a sizable crowd of wizards, considering it was a Saturday. Many of them were simply milling about idly, but most were either walking toward the security gates or queuing for the fireplaces. All of the traffic suggested that his first guess was right. Confirming this, a small group of wizards tumbled out of a nearby fireplace, chattering quickly and holding small French flags. Gritting his teeth, Harry forced himself to continue on his way to Harrington's office.

After the mandatory hassle by the guard at the gate and an uncomfortable ride in a lift crowded with people who were excited to share it with someone famous, Harry arrived at the Department of International Magical Cooperation and found the area crowded with people talking about things Harry simply didn't care about. He pushed his way through to Carmilla's desk as quickly as he could. She gave him no greeting and simply motioned toward Harrington's office with a serious expression.

Harry was beginning to feel worried. This was something more serious than a simple message delivery. His thoughts turned to Ginny immediately and he imagined the worst. He ran to the office door, threw it open and froze. Ginny was standing only a few feet away, safe and unharmed, yet this didn't make Harry worry any less. Like Carmilla and Harrington sitting at his desk, her expression was filled with fear and concern.

"What is it?" he asked. "What happened?"

"We don't know yet," answered Harrington. "It may be nothing at all." The tone of his voice did little to convince Harry of this.

"This was delivered to the Ministry," Ginny announced as she handed a small piece of parchment to Harry. He quickly opened it and read the short message:

_Harry: Come to Paris immediately. Bring any friends whom you can trust and can arrive within the hour. I am waiting at Le Singe Ivre._

_Josef_

"How much time do we have left?" Harry asked as he folded the message and stuffed it into his pocket. Ginny and Harrington exchanged troubled looks and said nothing. Sensing trouble, Harry tried a different question. "When did the message arrive?"

"The office was almost completely empty," Ginny answered apologetically. "It's Saturday and there was the match and— Carmilla got the message but it was made to look like every other report we get each day, so..."

Fear gripped Harry. "When did it arrive?" he asked more insistently

"We can't be certain," began Harrington, "but it was sorted with the morning mail, which suggests it arrived sometime before noon."

"It got here at least four hours ago!"

Harrington frowned at him and replied in a firm voice: "Yes, Harry, we can count, too. There is nothing we can do to fix it now."

"No, but we can do what we were supposed to do hours ago. The match is over, isn't it?" he asked and got a pair of quick nods. "We need to find Ron and—"

"Ron should be getting to Grimmauld Place any moment now," Ginny interrupted "He'll meet us at the _Leaky Cauldron_."

Harry couldn't help but smile at Ginny. She knew what Harry was going to do and had thought up a plan which was sure to help them leave as quickly as possible. As the two of them strode out of Harrington's office, Harry paused a moment to thank him and ask him one last favor.

"Send a message to Remus Lupin at Hogwarts as quickly as you can. Tell him we have gone to _Le Singe Ivre_ in Paris. We will wait there as long as we can."

* * *

Harry rolled out of the fireplace at _Le Singe Ivre_ to find the large pub filled with a crowd of triumphant Quidditch fans. Though he hadn't wasted any attention on it earlier, it was now almost painfully obvious that the French team had managed yet another surprising victory. The balcony which encircled the main hall was almost overflowing with witches and wizards who seemed to be shouting, singing and drinking all at once. 

Ginny tumbled out of the fireplace only a little while behind him. Harry helped her up and she took a moment to tidy up her robes with her wand. After a few more seconds to fully take in the spectacle, Harry fixed his robes, trying to make himself look a little more respectable. He had all but discarded the idea of actually searching for Josef when a low voice cut through the din. It had come from very close behind Harry.

"You're late."

Harry spun around, pulling his wand as he did and found Josef standing before him, a pair of dull eyes staring at him from under one of the grey cloaks the Brotherhood had used.

"We just got your message. It was delayed because of the match," Harry explained.

"I suspected as much," Josef replied flatly. "It was a risk I had to take. Had I used an owl, you might not have gotten the message until after sunset. Is it just the two of you, then? I suppose it may not matter, but still..."

There was something different about Josef. He seemed colder than usual, more distant and withdrawn. At the same time, he seemed noticeably distracted, almost to the point of looking uncomfortable with Harry's presence.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

Josef's eyes locked onto Harry's and he spoke in a very direct, pointed tone: "I'm fine." Continuing in a slower voice, he made certain that Harry which topic was being discussed: "Have you brought only yourselves or are others coming?"

"Ron and Hermione will be along in a minute or two," Harry replied, still studying Josef for any clues he might be able to find about his mood. "We sent word to Lupin and the others at Hogwarts. It's a Saturday, so it shouldn't be hard for them to slip away, but I don't know if they'll even get the message."

Just as he finished speaking, Ron appeared out of the fireplace with a puff of soot. Hermione arrived seconds later. Josef quickly nodded to both of them, taking quite some time to scrutinize Hermione. She stared back at him and Harry thought they were almost conducting some sort of silent conversation.

"It's here, isn't it," she whispered, breaking the awkward silence. "That's why you sent for us."

"Can you sense him?" Josef asked her "Is he nearby?"

"I— I don't know," she answered. "It's hard to tell with all these people. I can barely hear myself think."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "You don't know if he's here?"

"My instincts say he is," Josef explained in a soft voice. "If given a moment, I'm sure Ron would tell you a very interesting tale about the Quidditch match today. Despite perfect conditions for Seekers, the Snitch proved to be nearly impossible to find today. The Italian Seeker came close to catching it a few times, but it always managed to disappear. When the French Seeker managed to catch it, I think he was as surprised as everyone else. By all accounts, he didn't even seem to spot it until it was in his hand."

The implications were clear. "You think the cloaked wizard was manipulating the match? Why would he care about who—"

"I don't think he cared about the match at all," Josef replied. "There is a Death Gate in Paris. It is hidden very well. Only a small number of wizards know where it is. Henri D'Anneau bought his entry into the Brotherhood with its location. If Grigore knew it, it's safe to assume our adversary knows it as well. I was never trusted with it, but I would have to guess that it won't be far from the Ministry building. After the rather exciting events this afternoon, every street from here to the Ministry is filled with celebrating fans. Not even Miss Granger could find him."

Something still didn't add up. "But you sent the message this morning."

Josef nodded. "Yes. I cannot explain it. I felt... uneasy. There were too many coincidences. If I were him, this would be the time I would pick to attack."

"What about Lupin and the others? Can we risk waiting for them?"

"Yes, we'll wait for the others," Josef announced stiffly. "There's no reason not to. So far, nothing has happened. We would know if it had. If he's going to attack Paris in the middle of a celebration, he's not terribly worried about remaining hidden. That had been our advantage, without it we'll need all the help we can get."

With a forced smile, he turned toward Ginny. "If you would, please keep an eye on the fireplace. Mr. Weasley," he said, addressing Ron as if he were some foreign dignitary, "if you and Miss Granger don't mind, please keep an eye on Ginny. If anything happens, don't hesitate to draw as much attention as you can. Harry and I will find a table in this mess and attempt to figure out just what our next step will be. Come find us if the others arrive."

Harry followed Josef as he walked through the crowd toward one of the many barmaids floating through the field of tables. He slipped her a small stack of gold coins and leaned close to her to say something. Still staring at the coins with wide eyes, she nodded enthusiastically and led the two of them to a small table nearby where three young boys were laughing and drinking butterbeer. With a few stern words, she chased them off and offered it to Harry and Josef. Harry felt a little bad for the boys, but Josef didn't seem bothered at all. He sat down and waited for Harry to join him with the same empty expression he had when Harry first saw him.

Something still felt wrong. Josef wasn't acting as he usually did. It wasn't as though it was a disguise or the result of the Imperius Curse, though Harry found it just as disturbing. It was still the same Josef, but he had changed. He was even more formal than he usually was. It felt almost as if he were wearing a mask, unwilling to let anyone see him anymore.

"Are you certain you're alright?" Harry asked again, feeling as though this was something he ought to ask even if it made him uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," Josef replied again, sounding just as dismissive as he had before.

"It's alright if you're not, you know," Harry said, trying to sound comforting. "I know what you're going through."

"No, you really don't, Harry," Josef interrupted.

"I've lost people I cared for —too many of them. I watched my godfather die, you know—"

"—And Albus Dumbledore and a Cedric Diggory and a dozen others," droned Josef. "I know your history, Harry. I studied it for a month. I wouldn't be surprised if I know it better than you do."

"There was nothing I could do" continued Harry, ignoring the outburst. "One moment he was there, and the next he was gone. I was angry and sad and I felt like it was my fault. It wasn't an easy time, but it's not supposed to be easy. My friends helped me through it. No one will think less of you for feeling bad."

Josef glared at him. "I said _I'm fine._"

"Well you're not acting like it," Harry replied sharply. "You sent a message without making certain it would reach me and when I finally get here over four hours later, you still don't have any idea what we're doing here."

"Who said I don't have a plan?" Josef asked flatly.

"You did, not more than a minute ago—"

"I was lying, Harry."

"Oh, like the time you said you were fine?"

Josef leaned back in his chair and let out a bored sigh. "No, Harry, a lie is when you say something that _isn't_ true. Stop acting like this is such a foreign concept to you."

His last comment was abnormally biting for Josef, especially in his current mood. There was some purpose behind it. As Josef himself had taught him, Harry took a moment to look at the situation and saw what Josef had done. He had lied to the others, making an excuse to leave them.

"Why are we over here?" Harry asked. "Why did you want to get away from them? What don't you want them to know?"

Josef shook his head. "I'm not trying to keep secrets, Harry. Quite the contrary."

"Then why are we here?"

"Harry," Josef said in a low voice. "We need to talk and you need to be honest."

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a flash of bright red fabric. With a twirl and a faint giggle, a witch appeared suddenly at the table, her dark hair swaying playfully as she smiled at the two of them. She bent over to lean on the table between Harry and Josef, and Harry immediately stared down at the candle in the center of the table. There wasn't quite enough fabric in the barmaid's robes as he would have liked and what was there was rather distracting.

"_Bonjour, messieurs,_" she said in fluid, obviously flirtatious French. "_Mais c'est quoi ça? Quelqu'un est mort? On est là pour fêter et voilà que je trouve deux gars charmants comme vous, assis tous seuls. Il faut changer ça, je pourrais peut-être—_"

Her expression soured as she looked at Harry and crossed her arms. "_Ah. C'est l'imbécile. Revenu pour trucider notre langue un peu plus? Ou alors pour prendre un petit apéro pour se rafraîchir après une longue matinée courrant après des jupons? J'imagine que les troupeaux locaux n'ont pas apprécié les avancés inappropriés?_"

She had spoken too quickly for Harry to catch everything, or even most of it. He thought he'd caught a question of some sort and perhaps a mention of livestock, though he couldn't quite figure out how that made sense. He gave her a friendly smile, but Josef stopped him before he could speak.

"Please don't answer that," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Just... don't." With Harry silenced, Josef sighed and looked up at the barmaid with a bright smile. "_Vous pouvez nous donner un moment, s'il vous plait? En privé?_"

The barmaid turned toward Josef and a sly smile spread across her face. "_Juste un moment? Je pourrais vous donner plusieurs moments… Peut-être même toute une soirée..._"

She ran her finger along his shoulder, and leaned closer to him. "_Vous êtes tellement plus attirant que votre ami… Et beacoup plus intelligent, aussi… Pourquoi l'avoir emmené? On pourrait s'amuser beaucoup plus, tous les deux, tous seuls, dans un endroit calme et privé..._"

Josef gave Harry a lopsided smile. "_Je suppose que je trouve les anglais amusants… Une bonne source de divertissement, vous comprenez?_" he said in flawless French.

Whatever he had said, the barmaid accepted it with a smile. She shrugged disappointedly and ran her finger along the table as she walked off to one of the many other tables of customers waiting for drinks.

Harry hadn't forgotten what they'd been talking about and returned to it immediately after she'd left. "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Josef sat in silence for a moment, obviously collecting his thoughts. "Harry," he began heavily, "I know I called you here without warning. You didn't have much time to think or prepare, so I need you to take a moment to understand the situation you're in. Things are going to happen quickly and there won't be much time to react. You do know that if I'm right about this, we may face the cloaked wizard tonight."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, but I have no idea where this conversation is headed."

"You need to prepare for the eventualities of that confrontation."

"I _have_ been preparing," Harry replied. "I've been practicing whenever I can. I've been teaching Ron and Ginny and Hermione whenever I get a chance."

"That's not the sort of preparation I'm talking about."

"What else is there to do?" he asked. "We brought Shield Cloaks and healing potions and all sorts of other concoctions for any number of injuries. I brought spare wands and even parchment for sending messages. What more do you want?"

"That's not our greatest need anymore," Josef said, shaking his head. "Harry, this... wizard —this thing— it knows about all of us. It knows more than you can imagine. It knows our fears and our secrets. It will use them to hurt us in ways that cannot be fixed by potions and salves."

Harry began to feel uncomfortable. "Like what?"

"For a long time, I wasn't certain, but I am now." Josef continued, pausing to stare into Harry's eyes. "It might not be today, but sooner or later it will happen, and when it does, I'm afraid it will be Ginny, not you, who pays the price."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked quietly. Josef frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was just about to reply, but the barmaid chose that moment to return.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said, introducing herself in accented English this time. "Could I bring you something to drink? We have just received a new barrel of Polish Ale. I hear it is quite excellent."

Josef was obviously frustrated with her interruption, but he smiled quite politely. "I'm sure it is," he replied, "however, we're going to need something a little stronger. I'll take a bottle of the best vodka you can find," he said, dropping a small pouch which hit the table with a metallic _thunk_.

With a curious expression, the girl picked up the pouch and emptied it into her hand. Seeing two dozen or more thick gold coins, her jaw dropped. "And— and your friend?" she asked.

Without even looking at her, Josef tossed another pair of heavy pouches to the girl. "My friend will have your oldest and strongest cognac —the entire bottle."

The barmaid was almost beyond words. "_Une bouteille de Cognac? Mais vous pouvez acheter tout le tonneau avec ça!_" she muttered, switching back to French as she gaped at the gold Josef had given her. "_Oui... Bien sûr, Monsieur,_" she said with a look of awe. "I— I mean, yes of course, sir. The— The cognac will take a while. It has, er... to be brought up from the cellar and we have been very—"

"Yes, that will be fine," interrupted Josef. "We will start on the vodka, then, yes?"

"_Oui, oui_," she said almost bowing to him. "I will be back immediately, sir."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said quietly as he watched the witch dash off to the bar.

"I doubt that, Harry. I wish it were true, but I think we both know it's not."

"I don't know why you'd think that," Harry replied, "considering that you've barely told me anything at all." At the bar, Josef's order seemed to be causing a bit of a scene. The barmaid was obviously talking quite fast and the older wizard behind the bar was giving her a skeptical look. Tossing the pouches of gold on the bar, he promptly disappeared.

Josef didn't seem at all interested in what he'd started. "You've never been good at lying, Harry," he said, "but that obviously hasn't stopped you from doing it. Frankly, I'm surprised you've lasted this long."

"Ah, well perhaps the secret to being a good liar is to keep the truth from yourself as well as others," Harry said flatly. "Of course, that makes the whole thing sort of useless, but I'm sure you have some clever explanation for that, too." Meanwhile, the barkeep had reappeared with an even older wizard wearing expensive robes of black and silver. After talking briefly to the barmaid, he began walking toward a large wooden cabinet nearby and opened it with a key from his pocket.

"Perhaps that's how you've done it," Josef suggested. "You convinced yourself that it was all a lie."

"How terribly devious of me," Harry muttered, his voice laden with frustration. The barkeep handed something heavy to the barmaid and she took out a wand and began waving it around over the object. "If it's as serious as you say it is, this is hardly the time or place to discuss it."

Josef remained stoic. "I agree, yet as I said, I fear you are out of time. If you don't do it here and now, the danger will only increase."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Harry said as the barmaid raced back through the crowd carrying a large clear bottle as if it were some sort of fragile trophy.

"_Voilà, Monsieur,_" she said proudly as she gently placed the bottle of vodka on the table. "It is the very best bottle we have," she added excitedly, "taken from the owner's special collection."

Josef took the bottle, and twisted off the top and nodded politely to the barmaid while pushing another gold coin toward her. Apparently understanding it as a request for privacy, the barmaid took the coin, slipped it into the top of her robes and disappeared without another word. Putting the bottle to his lips, Josef leaned back to take a long drink of the clear liquid. When he was finished, he slid the bottle across the table to Harry and stared at him with a stern expression.

"Harry, you need to tell Ginny about what happened between you and Hermione."

Harry considered reaching for the vodka, but stopped himself. "I don't know what you mean."

Josef stared back at him with weary eyes. "I wish I had that problem," he whispered as he reached for the bottle of vodka again. "Perhaps you think it's better that Ginny never knows, but you must know that is impossible. Sooner or later, you'll have to tell her."

Harry's mouth went dry, and he looked down at the table to keep himself from having to meet Josef's gaze. "There's nothing to tell her," he insisted. It had been so long since he'd even thought of it, he had almost convinced himself that it was the truth. "Nothing happened," he said firmly.

Josef's head dropped and he rubbed his forehead as if it hurt. "The ninth of October, Harry," he announced in a flat, lifeless tone. "You were tense, uncomfortable... agitated. Hermione was there, too. It was a dark room, cluttered with all sorts of things. It was familiar to me, but not as familiar as it was to you." Looking up, he met Harry's gaze. "You could feel it, couldn't you? You felt it getting stronger. You were fighting it, but then... something changed. You relaxed. You stopped fighting."

Harry tried to control his breathing as the memories flooded back to him. After that day, he'd refused all manner of potions meant to calm or comfort. He'd only used sleeping potions when he absolutely had to, and when he did, he preferred those which would prevent him from dreaming.

"Hermione felt it, too," Josef continued. "She didn't know what it was. She didn't know to fight it until it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered in the end. She has a brilliant mind, but not a forceful one. She's never had to. She's never been made to fight using nothing but her own will. Not like you have."

"No, you don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, hoping that he was right. "You're jumping to conclusions."

Josef's eyes narrowed. "Harry... Harry, I _saw_ it. I still see it. I can feel the heat of the room. I can hear the sound of ripping fabric as you tore the robes off her body. I can feel her fingernails digging into your skin and her mournful cries at the reality of what she'd done still echo in my mind. I assure you, Harry: I know what I am talking about. It has haunted my dreams for months."

"Why?" Harry asked, almost speechless. "How? No one knows about that. No one _could_ know about. How is it that you know things I barely remember?"

"I'm not your enemy, Harry," Josef assured him. "This is just one of many visions which haunted my thoughts while I waited for you in Romania. The first time I was subjected to it, I was convinced it was another dream meant to torment me, to make me believe the world was broken and falling into chaos, but it didn't fade like the others. It stayed as vivid and tactile as the memories of all the things I had done under his power, yet I told myself it was still a lie. Then I was free of him, and for a while I pretended that I didn't see the evidence of its truth. But I couldn't deny it for long. I could see it in your eyes and the way you reacted to the smallest hint of it."

Harry focused on breathing. He didn't know just what he felt. The anger was easy enough to recognize, but it wasn't anger toward Josef, it was just anger. Swirling about with it was fear and embarrassment and disgust at what he'd done. "If you know so much," Harry said slowly, "then can you at least tell me why it happened?"

"I think I'm beginning to understand. After what... Lucy told you," Josef said, stumbling over her name for only a moment, "I started putting it together. If Lucy was right, then you've got a small piece of the cloaked wizard inside you, an unintentional gift from your first encounter with Voldemort. Well, Hermione did, too, from when Marcus's son attacked her. As it was, the two parts were too weak to influence either of you, but when put in close proximity while your defenses were down, they were enough to push events in the right direction," he explained. "Just like the Inferi on the island, I think the two pieces were trying to unite and find their way back to him."

"You're saying... it was me? It was because I stopped fighting it that Hermione has this—" He didn't need to say the rest. He already knew it was true. So did Hermione. "Why her?" he asked. "I'm the one he hates. Why not me?"

"It's nothing she's done. I believe hers was simply the weaker will," he answered plainly.

"No. There's something more," Harry said. "Marius Lipton didn't try to kiss her. Why did it choose that way to bring us together. Since my scar still hurts, it must mean some of it is still left in me. Surely it could have found a better way. Something faster or less disruptive."

"That, I'm afraid, is why you need to tell Ginny. The cloaked wizard knows what happened between you, but he has no interest in using it to hurt either of you —at least, no more than it already has. It's Ginny that he wants to hurt, and he'll do it. He'll use Hermione to do it.

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" Harry asked. "Just pull her aside and tell her I snogged her friend, her brother's girlfriend, and one of my best friends?"

"That's precisely what I'm suggesting. There is no time to waste. You need to do it before he does."

"And what if that's what he wants?" suggested Harry. "What if _that_ is the plan he's been waiting to use. Have you already forgotten what happened in Bulgaria? He made you attack the guards to get the lantern and then he made us lead him through the fog with it. He's turning us against each other. I don't like keeping secrets from Ginny, but I'm tired of being tricked into putting my friends in danger."

Josef gave him a disapproving frown. "I understand that, but you really must trust—"

"Pardon me," the barmaid interrupted, startling both Harry and Josef. "It seems it's taking longer than expected to fetch your cognac, sir. I'm terribly sorry. I promise you I will bring it as soon as possible."

"Er, right, thanks," Harry mumbled. After giving them an apologetic smile, she walked back toward the bar, no doubt worried that the two of them might decide to complain to the owner at any minute. With her gone, Harry waited for Josef to continue his argument, but he seemed absorbed in the small drama unfolding at the bar as the witch went to speak with the barkeep. He seemed quite agitated, slamming his fist on the bar and shouting at no one in particular.

"_Mais, où est passé ce petit plaisantin? C'est le troisième qui a disparu dans la dernière heure! Je les envois à la cave et ils ne reviennent pas! Comme si j'étais suffisamment abruti pour ne pas remarquer qu'ils ne sont as revenus! Oh, les petits crétins, quand je les aurai retrouvés je les attacherai au pied de la table pour le reste de la soirée!_"

"Harry," Josef whispered as he stared at the barkeep, "I think we might be closer to finding the Gate than we thought."

"What? Why?"

"The wizard behind the bar just said that three of his employees have disappeared after going into the cellars —three in the last hour."

Harry's head spun around fast enough to send pain shooting down his neck. The wizard behind the bar was still grumbling to a pair of barmaids. Frightening thoughts were running through his mind. Looking all around the enormous hall, he felt a sickening heaviness in his stomach. The entire structure was roughly circular. How could he have missed it? The building was old, one of the very oldest in Paris. It obviously had not been a pub the entire time. The bar hugged the wall awkwardly along one of the longer sides. All of the doors behind it leading to storage rooms and offices were low and square with lots of extra bracing. Like the bar, they had been added well after the structure had been built. The main entrance, however, was wide and arched, looking as old as anything else in the hall. Harry followed the path from the main door through the center of the hall. Carved into the wall directly opposite the ancient arch, was a second arched doorway. It was the very same one he'd seen witches and wizards using as they fetched dusty bottles of wine and casks of beer.

"Go find Ron, Hermione and Ginny," he commanded. "We need to take a look in those cellars."

Josef walked off giving Harry some time to analyze the situation. They had been there for some time, but not an hour. If the first wizard lost in the cellars had been noticed an hour ago, it might mean that he had been attacked some time ago. He considered the possibility that the cloaked wizard might have come and gone already, taking advantage of the celebration over the match to slip out unnoticed. It might have even made sense if the attacks didn't seem to keep happening.

Perhaps there was some other entrance to the tunnels. At Romania and Golakhov's Castle, there had been a second, long tunnel dug to provide access to the chamber. Perhaps the same thing existed here. Looking around the crowded hall, Harry hoped it was the case. Visions of the bodies strewn across the courtyard on the island flashed in his mind, and he hoped that the scene would not be recreated here.

Josef returned with the others. Lupin and Tonks still hadn't arrived and Harry was beginning to think that it was probably for the best. He and Josef explained their fears to the others. None of them argued. They simply accepted what Harry said with solemn nods. Harry questioned Hermione again and got the same answer she'd given before. She only knew that the cloaked wizard was in Paris. She couldn't say exactly where.

Harry's mind remained set. He didn't have a plan, but he knew what needed to be done. It was pointless doing anything else before they managed to find the Veil —or whatever might be left of it. Looking over the bar quickly, Harry found the barkeep who seemed to be giving out the most orders. He was probably the one in charge. Telling Josef and the others to wait at the table, he stood up and marched off to the bar.

"We need to get into the cellar," Harry declared.

The wizard glared at him over a dozen foaming mugs of beer. "You need to buy a drink or get out of my face," he snarled in surprisingly good English.

"You don't understand," Harry said, somehow pleading and commanding at the same time. "If I'm right, you are all in danger. We need to get down to the cellars right now."

"You need to leave in a hurry," the man replied sharply. "If I were any less busy I'd toss you out just for your lack of respect, but I've got a job to do and it doesn't involve indulging the whims of some tactless British whelp who fancies himself a peek at what we've got in our vaults. Now, do us both a favor and toss yourself out onto the street so I don't have to call the guards to do it for you." With a quick signal, he alerted a pair of guards who frowned at Harry, but remained where they stood. The message was well received. Harry wouldn't be getting any help from the barkeep or the guards.

When Harry returned to the table, Josef rolled his eyes. "That went really well, Harry," he said. "You really are a master of subtlety."

"Well, I didn't attack anyone," he replied sourly. "I wanted to, but I didn't."

"Yes, and I thank you for that," Josef said in a patronizing tone. "Now, perhaps we can try something a little more civil."

Harry and the others waited impatiently as Josef walked over to the guard standing next to the door and pulled two small sacks of coins from his pocket. Harry shook his head, wondering just how much gold Josef was carrying. He must have broken into one of the old Brotherhood vaults in Paris to get it. It was something that Harry simply had not thought to bring and now that they were there, it would take too long to return to Gringotts.

A moment later, he wasn't feeling quite so disappointed. With a scowl on his face, Josef returned, the gold still in his hands. "The ignorant bastard thought it was some sort of practical joke," he said angrily. "He wouldn't even open the bags to see what was inside." Harry tried to suppress a grin, but failed. With a sigh, Josef stared at the cellar door. "Perhaps your idea wasn't so foolish. Of course, I have been drinking. The guard might be caught in the blast, as well." He pulled his wand from his pocket. "It's a risk we'll just have to take, I suppose."

Ginny stepped in front of him. "Just relax," she said calmingly. "Let me give it a try."

"We don't have time for this, Ginny," Josef replied. "You might be good at what you do, but we can't wait for you to negotiate some agreement with the owner."

She stood her ground. "Just give me a moment. If it doesn't work, I'll help you blast a hole in the wall."

"And what exactly do you have in mind?" asked Harry.

"Well, picking a better target, to start," Ginny announced as she turned around and began scanning the bar. "Like him," she said, pointing at a young wizard with dark hair standing behind the bar in a dim corner and trying to chat up a pair of witches. Ginny smiled brightly. "He'll do quite well, I think."

"Quite well for what?" Harry snorted. "He's lucky he's got a job. He'll never be able to—"

He stopped talking because Ginny had already walked off. She made her way to the bar just as the pair of witches walked off with a matching pair of drinks, leaving the wizard visibly disappointed. Ginny quickly hopped up on one of the chairs not far from him.

Once he'd spotted her, she cocked her head slightly to the side and gave him a lopsided smile. He returned it and said something to her. Harry couldn't tell just what it was, and it looked as though Ginny didn't either. She shook her head and laughed, then leaned forward while running her hand through her hair. The wizard laughed in response and reached under the bar to pull out a large bottle and a small, narrow glass. Ginny placed a silver coin on the bar, but the man quickly picked it up and placed it back in her palm, taking the opportunity to lightly caress her arm.

Harry felt his scar throb and his stomach tighten. He watched as the man poured a vibrant red liquid into the glass and offer it to Ginny. After she refused it twice, he pulled out a second glass and filled it as well, obviously meaning it for himself. Ginny laughed yet again and nodded happily as she reached for one of the glasses. The wizard quickly drained his, winced in pain for a moment, then opened his eyes and smiled at Ginny waiting for her to do the same. She picked up her glass, but as she brought it to her lips, she lurched unexpectedly spilling the contents down her chin and neck.

The two of them laughed as the wizard reached for a clean towel. Reaching across the bar, he began gently wiping down her chin and jaw, eventually moving to her neck. Ginny leaned forward a little more pulling the collar of her robes down a little. The wizard obliged, dabbing the towel across her collarbone and smiling hungrily as he did it. Feeling rather ill, Harry turned away.

Josef had not missed Harry's reaction. "You look uncomfortable, Harry,"

"If he does anything to her—"

"Now do you understand why you have to tell her?" Josef asked.

Ron picked that moment to appear at Harry's side. "Tell her what?" he asked. "Is she in danger?"

"More than she needs to be," Josef replied flatly.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"Forget about it, Ron," Harry said, brushing him aside and forcing himself to turn back. Across the hall, Ginny and the young wizard were hanging on each other and laughing. He watched as she reached up to the wizard's neck and pulled his face down until it was only inches from her neck. Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Her lips were so close to his ear that he couldn't tell if she was whispering to him, or kissing him.

Like Harry and the young wizard at the bar, Ron had been distracted by Ginny's behavior. He simply stood and stared at her as she and the young wizard broke apart, leaving the poor young man with an odd smile and a surprised, dazed look on his face. Ron just shook his head. "What does she think she's doing? With the mood in this place, a wizard might get the wrong idea—"

"On the contrary, Ron—" commented Josef as the wizard stepped around the bar and Ginny offered him her hand, "—I think he's got just the idea she wants him to have." He signaled the others to follow. "Come on. We may not have much time."

With his jaw aching from being clenched for so long, Harry followed Josef. Across the hall, Ginny gave them a quick, discreet wave as she was led through the crowd. Though he had seen it coming, Harry couldn't help but feel his chest tighten as the wizard unlocked the door to the cellar and led Ginny into the darkness with a giddy expression on his face.

In just a matter of seconds, Harry and Josef had slipped through the crowd and reached the cellar door. Though he was ready to break it down or blow it to pieces with a hex, the door opened easily and no one around them seemed to really care about or even notice them as they slipped through the doorway.

The floor beneath them dropped away into a steep stairwell. Harry began climbing down as quickly as he could but paused when he heard the faint echoes of a struggle, accented by a strained, higher pitched gasp. Leaving Hermione behind, Harry, Josef and Ron leaped down the last of the stairs and found themselves in a dim corridor. With wands drawn, they followed the noise around the corner and prepared to hex the witless wizard into the next year.

"Oh, good," Ginny sighed, "it's just you." She was holding her wand in one hand and attempting to drag a wizard into a dark room with the other. He was completely unconscious and lying limp on the dusty stone floor with the top buttons of his robes already undone.

Ginny dropped the man's arm and leaned against a wall. "He's heavier than I expected. I would have used my wand, but I was worried that I might have to use it if anyone found me."

With a flick of his wand, Josef levitated the body and threw it unceremoniously into the dark room. "That was a risky plan."

"Not as much as it seemed," she said with a smile. "Even more importantly, it worked. We needed to get into the cellars, and here we are. No threats or obscene amounts of gold required. At worst, Luc gets to take a bit of a nap after a long day of work, and it looks like no one even noticed we did it. Impressed?"

"Slightly nauseated, actually," grumbled Ron. "Why are his robes unbuttoned?"

Josef tried to be more diplomatic. "Your were very... efficient," he said in a strained voice, "almost disturbingly so."

Ginny let out short chuckle as she put her wand away. "It wasn't hard," she said with a frown. "He was practically tripping over himself to get down here, and once he did, he went right for _his own_ robes." She flashed a disgusted look into the nearby room. "He didn't try to talk to me or even kiss me, he just went right for the buttons." She turned away and shrugged. "Not very much of a gentleman, I guess."

Not wanting to think about it any more than he had to, Harry urged them onward. The corridor was wide, but with a low ceiling that seemed to close in on them as they walked. Harry didn't quite know what he was looking for. He was hoping that whatever it was, it would be obvious when they saw it. Luckily for all of them, the cellars didn't seem to be all that complex. There was only one path, with the occasional alcove used for storing large barrels of wine or beer. Ahead of him, Harry spotted an encouraging sign: the tunnel ceiling was getting higher and the dim shape of an arch could be seen outlining the entrance to the next chamber.

Just as Harry reached the arch, a tall wizard in dark robes stepped out in front of them. Pulling his wand, Harry threw himself against the wall as everyone else scattered. The tall wizard jumped back as well, nearly dropping some heavy object he'd been carrying under his arm. He stumbled a bit, and caught the small barrel just before it struck the ground. Stumbling forward, he struck Hermione, knocking her backward against the wall before she hit the ground hard. Letting loose with a string of French profanity, the man glared at all of them as he tucked the barrel under his arm again and continued on his way down the corridor leading back to the staircase.

Everyone was shaken by the encounter, but none more than Hermione. She was still looking dizzy and out of breath when Ron helped her to her feet and urged Harry to continue on. Just a little ways further, they came to the top level of the cellar. The moment he saw it, Harry knew that they were in the right place.

The cellar was little more than a spiral staircase wound around a wide circular shaft bore into the stone beneath the pub. Shelves and small alcoves were cut into the walls and filled with barrels and bottles of all shapes and sizes. The shaft was not deep and it took them only a minute or two to reach the bottom. Like the walls along the stairs, the entire bottom was cluttered with barrels, but it was easy enough to see where they would want to go.

Along a smooth section of wall, they found a pair of simple stone doors on which was hung a large sign with rather an unfriendly-looking message. Josef quickly translated for them: _Entry Forbidden by Law_. Seeing the doors intact gave Harry some relief, though it disappeared a second later as Ron tugged at his robes and pointed toward the floor. A thick red liquid was seeping out from under the doors. As he watched, the pool was still growing.

He pushed against the door with all his strength and to his surprise, it swung open smoothly. Sprawled across the floor just inside the door was a young wizard in bright blue robes. His eyes were glazed over, trying to stare up at an attacker who was no longer their. The blood from a deep wound on his chest was flowing out onto the stone floor and soaking into his light blonde hair.

The horrible truth struck Harry. The wizard had been dead for only a short while. Whoever killed him was still nearby. Looking around quickly, he realized that they were in another small, circular room. It was the antechamber to another Veil chamber. He dashed across the room, threw open the heavy metal doors on the other side, and bounded down the steps on the other side.

The light of a hundred torches filled the chamber with dazzling golden light. A pair of bodies lay nearby, but other than them, the room was totally empty. Looking down at the platform below, Harry could see a number of jagged fractures crossing it and a collection of small bits of masonry.

The Veil had already been destroyed.

"Harry," Josef called out with an unsteady voice. "You need to see this."

He turned around and found Josef crouched on the steps beneath one of the dead bodies. An odd amber liquid was dripping down from above. Running up to take a closer look, Harry found the source. Not far from the body was a large, fancy bottle of liquor. It was cracked down its center and the liquid was still dribbling out of the bottle and down the stairs.

Josef looked up at him with a sickened expression. "Harry, it's cognac," he said. "It still hasn't reached the bottom of the stairs. This was recent."

Harry followed the trail of liquor down the steps where it stopped nearly halfway down. Just as Josef said, it was still slowly making its way down, spreading and slowing a little as it got closer to the bottom. The bottle couldn't have been broken much more than a few minutes ago.

"It doesn't make sense," he muttered. "He's got to be nearby. How could we have missed him?"

"We didn't," Ginny announced with a hollow voice, "—the man with the barrel..."

Harry turned around and found Ginny and Josef staring at Hermione. She was pale, with a sorrowful look in her eyes. Her mouth was moving as if she wanted to say something, but no sound was coming out. With a flick of Harry's wand, Hermione's voice returned.

"He's... killing them," she panted.

Without any discussion or even a moment's pause to consider a course of action, Harry bolted for the door. They had let the cloaked wizard get passed them. The hall above them was filled with drunk witches and wizards and Lupin, Tonks and Simon might arrive at any moment. They had fallen into yet another trap.

* * *

Ginny ran after Harry. Josef quickly passed her while Ron and Hermione trailed behind her. By the time she reached the top of the large spiral staircase, her legs felt like they were on fire, but she continued pushing herself onward. Harry and Josef didn't pause until they reached the foot of the stairs which led back to the main hall. 

"Wands out," Harry whispered.

"Why's that?" Ron asked as he and Hermione came to a stop not far behind Ginny. "There are a thousand witches and wizards above us. He wouldn't risk that."

"I'm not so certain anymore," Harry replied. Ginny noticed something odd about the way he'd answered. She suddenly noticed that Harry was standing in front of the same dark room they had thrown the wizard she had tricked into unlocking the cellar door. She walked up to Harry and peered around him into the dim room. The wizard was still there and he was just as still as he had been when they had left him, only now he was missing both his hands.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered as he stepped up to see what she was looking at. "What does that mean?"

"It means the situation has changed," Josef announced. "It would be a mistake to assume that we won't need to use our wands. Shield cloaks would be a good idea as well." As he said this, his eyes found Ginny. She nodded and took a moment to tighten the cloak around her.

After checking with the others, they all pulled their wands and slowly started climbing the stairs to the main hall. Before they even reached the top, it became clear that they were not returning to the same jubilant atmosphere. Muffled screams and the smell of burning wood were coming from the other side of the door. Harry hesitated for a moment at the door, then pushed it open and disappeared into the main hall.

Josef followed close behind him, leaving Ginny some distance back. She jumped up the last few steps and ran through the doorway. Immediately, the terrible reality struck her. Only minutes ago, the hall had been filled with jubilant wizards celebrating and drinking and singing. Now the hall was filled with smoke from a dozen fires which burned despite the bands of wizards trying to extinguish them. Scattered between the tables were small groups of wizards clustered around motionless bodies. Other bodies lay alone, most of them blackened or bloody.

Harry and Josef strode forward and stopped at the same table where they had been sitting. A woman's body lay spread across the top, her arms and legs splayed out. Harry turned away after just a few seconds, allowing Ginny to catch a brief glimpse of the unfortunate woman. Though her eyes were covered in thick blood, Ginny recognized her as the witch who had been serving Harry and Josef earlier.

"It's Potter!" cried a voice through the smoke. "They're here!"

Harry and Josef sprung around quickly, drawing their wands to point toward the direction the voice had come from. Ginny did the same, breathing deep and preparing herself for whatever might step through the haze.

"We feared the worst," Simon said as strode toward them. Tonks and Lupin ran up from behind him, looking visibly relieved upon seeing Harry and the rest of them.

"How long have you been here?" Harry asked,

"Only a few minutes," Lupin replied. "I think we arrived at the worst part of the attack. No one even noticed us. They were all just trying to escape."

The smoke parted nearby as Valencia strode toward them, her dark hair flowing behind her. "Have you found the Gate?" she asked. "Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, it's here," Harry answered. "It _was_ here. The chamber is directly beneath us, but it was destroyed when we found it."

"There was no one else?" she asked. "You saw no other wizards trying to help him or stop him?"

Harry just shook his head. "No. I— I don't think anyone else knows about him." Valencia looked dissatisfied with this answer, but said nothing else. She raised her wand and sent a stream of water through the air at a nearby table which was still smoldering.

"Where is he?" Josef asked. "Where is the cloaked wizard?"

"He's left the hall," Justinian announced, appearing rather suddenly from behind them. "He's attacking wizards on the street. He's not going to stop. We need to do something."

Harry didn't wait for anyone else. Pushing aside fallen chairs and stepping over fallen wizards, Harry quickly walked across the pub to the far doorway where the ancient doors were bent and wrenched from their hinges. Pushing one of them aside, he disappeared through the gap.

Ginny ran after him and jumped through the broken doorway. Outside, the sun had already set and the sky was darkening quickly. Screams of fear and pain echoed down the street as the last few wizards on the street tried to flee in every direction.

One scream rang out clearer and louder than the rest. Ginny looked for its source and found a pair of shapes which weren't running like the others. They were standing together at the far side of a gruesome path of dead bodies. Harry and Josef had noticed this, too, and they already had their wands drawn.

"Let her go!" shouted Harry, as he stepped over a corpse.

"No," a familiar voice replied smoothly, "I think not." Ginny froze as she saw the cloaked wizard standing in the middle of the street. In one hand he was holding a long pointed dagger against the chest of a beautiful, young witch who was trembling in terror. "I have grown tired of your interference. You know what I want. I would allow you to buy her life. I am not unreasonable." Tears fell from the girl's large eyes as they stared at Ginny and the others from behind waves of pale blonde hair. She was beyond panic. Ginny didn't want to imagine the things she must have seen.

Harry stepped a little closer. "You asked me what crime you had committed to earn your punishment. What crime has she committed? What has she done to earn death?"

"Nothing at all," the cloaked wizard replied. "This is not about her, though, it is about _her_," he said, pointing the dagger at Ginny. "This is punishment for her crime."

Harry cast a silencing glance toward Ginny and began to slowly move into a position between her and the cloaked wizard. "Let her go. You've destroyed the Veil. There is nothing more for you to gain here," he argued. "You will only draw attention to yourself."

The wizard let out a sharp laugh dripping with malice. "I might draw attention to myself?" he repeated. "Open your eyes, Harry. Do you believe that if I were to walk away now, this would be reported as nothing more than a simple pub brawl? Do you think they will not discover what I have done? Do you expect me to believe that you will not tell them?"

"Then why are you still here?" he asked, trying to gain a bit more time to think. "Haven't you done enough? How many more deaths will it take? Will her death bring you any satisfaction?"

"The death of his girl means nothing to me, but it does to you," he said, then continued in a slow, deliberate tone: "Give me what I want, and this will end. Continue to oppose me, and she will die." To prove that he was serious, the wizard pressed the point of the blade into the girl's stomach, causing her to gasp in pain as a small, bright red stain appeared on the white fabric of her dress. Pale green light poured from the wizard's eyes as he spoke slowly: "Where is it?"

Harry continued to stall. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I have no times for games, Harry," the cloaked wizard said in a clear voice. The girl cried out as the knife pressed a little harder, causing a line of blood to soak through her dress as it flowed toward the ground. "You know what I want!" he shouted. The hand holding the blade twisted a little, and the girl let out a string of horrible screams.

"You want the Jewel of Darkness!" Harry shouted over the girl's shrieks. The cloaked wizard paused and waited for Harry to continue. "It's not here," he said. "Every moment you spend here is a waste of your time."

"You have the Jewel then?" he asked, giving Harry an appraising stare as he slowly lowered his dagger.

"I know where to find it," Harry bluffed. "I've known for some time now. Stay here and kill whoever you like. It will only give me more time to find it and see that it's hidden somewhere safe." The wizard paused for a moment to watch Harry.

"You are lying," he snarled. With a single swift motion, he drove the dagger into the girl's stomach just under her ribs. Lifting her up with the knife, he threw down the convulsing body further along the street and began walking toward her. She let out a single mournful wail as she tried in vain to drag herself away from him, but he ignored her, simply stepped over her as he continued on his path. After a few ragged breaths, the girl collapsed onto the street and didn't move again.

While Harry and Hermione rushed to the dying girl, the others were running forward quickly organizing some sort of plan with frantic gestures and silent words. A few huddled silhouettes could still be seen cowering in the dark corners, a few of them running off when they saw the cloaked wizard approaching.

Ginny ran after them, her legs still weak and aching. She felt horribly out of place. She was in a foreign country, fighting an enemy she couldn't fully comprehend. She was tired and dazed, unable to deal with the situation she had been forced into. She knew she wasn't weak, yet she simply didn't know what to do in a battle like this. This was nothing like sneaking about Hogwarts or taking on a crowd of Death Eaters. This was a single enemy, far beyond her skill. How could she even help stop something so horrible as this enemy? How could anyone?

She heard footsteps behind her and whirled about to find Harry and Hermione running toward her with their wands drawn and determined expressions on their faces. Just feet away from her, Harry came to an abrupt stop and raised his wand. Sparks shot past Ginny, followed by the sound of an explosion a second later.

Harry grabbed her shoulder and tugged her over toward the side of the street where they took shelter behind a set of stone posts. Josef and the others had done the same. Finding himself surrounded, the cloaked wizard turned slowly as if searching for something specific or waiting for something to happen.

Tonks and Simon were the first to attack. Standing up from behind a stone fountain, they fired off a pair of hexes, which were easily deflected by the cloaked wizard. Instead of their intended target, both struck a nearby storefront lighting the area with a flash of crimson. The sudden violence spurred a few of the wizards hiding in the area to leap out of their hiding spots in an attempt to escape to safer surroundings. Ginny spotted three of them dashing away from the street. Two of them managed to dive into alleys. The third was not so lucky.

With a wave of his arm, the cloaked wizard yanked the poor man off his feet and sent him flying backward. He landed on the stone street only inches from the wizard's feet. Next to her, Harry had his wand ready, obviously trying to decide if it was too risky to attempt a curse.

The cloaked wizard reached down and grabbed the man by his neck and pulled him up onto his feet. At first, Ginny couldn't quite make sense of what was going on. She had expected him to use the man as a hostage, much like he had with the girl, but that was not what he appeared to be doing. The man seemed to be suffocating. It didn't make sense. Why would he drag the man back, just to kill him?

"No!" Josef shouted from behind another column. "Stop him! Don't let him finish!"

Reacting to the command, Harry and Ginny both stepped out from behind their shelter. Tonks and Simon had done the same thing and were already running into the street to find a better position to attack from.

"How do we stop him?" Harry shouted. "What is he doing?"

Josef never answered, but there was no need. It was all too clear what was happening. The man had begun convulsing and was gripping the cloaked wizard's arm for support. In the dim light, Ginny could see that he was not suffocating at all. In fact, he was breathing quite quickly. As they all watch, his head tilted back and he stared into the sky as a horrible scream tore itself from his throat. He took in another deep, gasping breath, then screamed again, a little deeper in tone this time and far more harsh. A sickening feeling filled her stomach as he screamed a third time, this time opening his jaw as wide as he could, displaying a set of long, black fangs which gleamed in the faint light. Horrible memories flooded back to Ginny. She had seen this before. He was turning into one of the vampires that had attacked her in Romania.

Josef stepped out into the street. Aiming his wand at the cloaked wizard, he fired off a hex. With amazingly quick reflexes, the wizard dropped the man, dodged the hex, and quickly knocked Josef off his feet with a ball of golden light.

Tonks and Simon tried to counterattack, but before either could cast a spell, their wands had jumped from their hands to land in the street between them and the cloaked wizard. Without hesitation, they made a dash for their wands, knowing they stood little chance without them.

With a snarl, the vampire leaped to his feet and charged at them. Cold fear gripped Ginny. She knew they would never make it to their wands before the vampire would. Realizing the same thing, Lupin and Justinian fired curses at it, but it dodged the first and simply shrugged off the second. Simon and Tonks suddenly realized they would not reach their wands and tried to escape, but it was already upon them. Hissing at them, it slashed at Tonks, cutting deeply into her arm, and then leaped onto Simon. He fought with all his strength, but it was clear that he was no match for the vampire. Slowly, its jaws were inching closer to his neck.

Curses rained in from all sides, but none of them had any effect. No one seemed willing to try anything dangerous for fear of hitting Simon instead. Ginny could think of only one thing. "_Lumos!_" she cried. A blinding light burst out of the end of her wand and she aimed it directly at the vampire. Though it did little to injure it, it became disoriented enough that Simon was able to push it away for a moment. With a little more distance between them, the others were better able to help.

A thin rope sprung out of the air and wrapped itself firmly around the vampire's head. On the other end, Justinian braced himself against the doorway of a shop and pulled back with all his strength. The vampire's head jerked up sharply as Valencia strode forward and slashed her wand through the air. Bright silver sparks flew from her wand and struck the vampire's neck slicing it off in an instant.

Before the decapitated body could even fall to the ground, a jet of blue light shot across the street and slammed into Valencia's chest. She flew backward into a stack of wooden crates, shattering them. Within seconds, she began trying to pull herself from the wreckage, but the moment she tried to stand up, her leg bent unnaturally and she fell backward with a pained scream.

Ignoring urgent protests from Ron, Hermione ran forward to try and help her. She didn't even make it halfway across the street before a sharp bolt of light shot from the wizard's hand and struck her in the back. She stumbled and fell to the ground with a faint whimper. Ginny rushed forward, knelt down next to her and prepared to try and pull her friend to shelter. Running up behind them, Ron leveled his wand.

"_Sectumsempra!_" he shouted viciously.

The curse tore Ginny's attention away from Hermione. She looked up and saw a wide gash opened across the cloaked wizard's face. However, if it had an effect, it wasn't what Ron intended. Within seconds, the wound was already closing itself as the wizard's pale skin knitted back together over it.

With his teeth bared and his face bathed in the eerie green light from his eyes, the cloaked wizard strode across the street toward Ron. "Do you think you are special?" he growled, releasing puffs of black vapor as he spoke. "Do you believe yourself to have some extraordinary skill which has kept you relatively unharmed? The only reason your blood is still running in your veins and not pooling on the street with all the others is because you pose no threat to me. Did you wish that to change?"

With a wave of his hand, Ron was tossed backward off his feet and struck the stone wall of a darkened shop behind him. He coughed weakly and tried clumsily to get back onto his feet. Though Ron had been disarmed, the cloaked wizard didn't stop. Advancing on Ron, his right hand began to glow with a pale green light.

A pair of hexes flashed through the night, one each from Harry and Josef, but both were deflected easily with a quick wave of his left hand. With another wave, they were thrown backward onto the street. Noise from the far side of the street, caught everyone's attention. Somehow Valencia had managed to push herself up onto her knees. Her wand was out and she started to shout a spell, but it quickly turned into an agonized shriek as a long splinter of wood from the crates leaped off the ground and stabbed itself into her shoulder deep enough to pierce through the back of her robes.

Harry and Josef were still on the ground. Hermione seemed to be unconscious. Ginny was the only one left. She raised her wand, but the instant she did, the cloaked wizard's eyes found her. He said nothing, but slowly extended his glowing hand toward Ron, stating his threat more clearly than any words could have managed.

"I have no grudge against you," he announced as turned toward Ron, "but I have no use for you either. Your life or death is of little value to me, but perhaps your torture may teach your friends the consequences of defying me."

Before she even realized what she was doing, Ginny felt herself running forward with every last bit of strength she had. The cloaked wizard's hand brightened threateningly and his fingers extended toward Ron.

"_No!_" Ginny screamed as her feet skidded against the stone paving the street, coming to an abrupt halt only inches in front of the cloaked wizard. With a feral growl, his hand closed into a tight fist extinguishing the light while his eyes blazed with fury.

"Get out of my way!" he snarled. With terrifying strength, he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her away. She stumbled backward, but quickly regained her balance and stepped in front of him again.

Breathing heavily, he glared at her with baleful eyes. "Do not make me regret my decision to spare your life. Now, _move aside_ or I will make you wish that I had granted your brother the gift of death."

"No," Ginny said as firmly as she could. It was hard to swallow, but she kept telling herself that he wouldn't hurt her. She was Ron's shield and so long as she refused to move, he would be safe.

"This is your last chance," he said in a low voice. "I have not forgotten what mercy is, but if you do not—"

A burst of bright light exploded only inches away from Ginny, scalding her and knocking the cloaked wizard off balance. He recovered quickly and raised his arm to point down the street where Harry and Josef had been. His attention was turned away from her for little more than a second or two, but Ginny saw her chance. She raised her wand and jabbed it into the open space between his jaw and the bottom of his hood.

"_Fractus!_" she shouted.

A sickening series of cracking noises split the evening air as the cloaked wizard's head bent backward unnaturally. A second later, his body went limp and felt limply to the ground. Her heart pounding in her chest, Ginny looked down and watched as the green flames in his eyes began to slowly fade.

Even as Ginny stood over him, watching the last light flickering in his eyes, a thick oily smoke began to collect along on the ground surrounding the body. It dispersed quickly, as though driven by a brisk wind. A hand fell on her shoulder and she spun around, shrieking in fear.

"We need to go," Harry said as he grabbed her other shoulder and began pushing her along the street. Ron was starting to push himself back up and Harry stepped aside quickly to help him up before returning to Ginny. "There's no time. We've got to get to the pub. The street is covered by Anti-Disapparation charms and he won't stay dead for long."

As Ginny was forced along the street, he saw Josef helping Hermione limp along beside them. Understanding Harry's plan without even being told, Lupin and Justinian lifted Valencia from the wreckage of the crates while Simon and Tonks, though bruised and bloodied, seemed to be unhurt. They had recovered their wands and remained at the back of the group, keeping an eye out for any attacks.

At the head of the group, Harry and Ginny were watching just as intently. They had been walking for no more than a minute or more before they came to a sudden halt.

"Josef!" Harry called out. "The girl!"

Ahead of them, Ginny spotted the body of a young witch lying in the street. It was the same witch who had been murdered in front of them only minutes ago, but something was wrong. It took only a moment to see what had caught Harry's eye. Her hair was no longer blonde, but a vibrant red. Before Harry could turn aside, the witch began to stir. With slow, mechanical movements, she rose up onto her hands and knees, and glared at them with glowing emerald eyes.

As she stood up, her hand closed around the long dagger still embedded in her stomach. With a grimace of pain, she wrenched it free and deftly turned the knife around in her hand, so that the bloody tip was pointing directly at Ginny.

"How _dare_ you..." she hissed, black smoke spilling out of her mouth. "How many more times must you try to end my life? You must know that you cannot succeed. Not anymore. You should have been so merciful the first time. You see now?" she croaked. "Do you see how your betrayal has returned to haunt you? You stole both life and death from me. Now, not even you can give them to me."

"You must learn that your actions have consequences," she continued. "If that requires your blood to be spilled, then it is a price I am willing to pay." Without warning, the girl sprang at Ginny, the dagger held in front of her like a spear. Ginny tried to aim her wand and back away at the same time, but she simply wasn't fast enough. The other witch dodged a pair of hexes from the others and lunged toward Ginny. The bloody dagger slashed at Ginny's face, but missed by inches.

A fierce cry rang out in the night. Ginny looked back at the witch and found Josef grappling with her. She fought wildly against him, slicing the air with the knife as he pulled her back away from Ginny. Harry jumped forward to grab the witch's arm. With slow determination, he bent her elbow so that the knife was pointing back at her chest. She laughed at them as the tip of the blade hovered just inches from her collarbone. Suddenly, the green flames in her eyes disappeared. Harry's strength quickly overcame her waning resistance, and Ginny winced as she watched Harry drive the dagger into the center of the young woman's neck. Her eyes rolled back in her head and Josef immediately let go of her as she dropped back onto the street.

Everyone stared down at the limp body, uncertain about what had just happened. In her attempt to put more distance between herself and the dead witch, Ginny backed into something large and immovable. As she twisted to see what it might be, a long arm curled around her neck and pressed against her throat making it nearly impossible to breathe.

"It is obvious that I do not have your full attention," a familiar voice growled in her ear. "Perhaps we need to find a place with less distractions."

Ginny tried to scream, but the only sound that escaped her mouth was a strangled gasp. Bending down over the witch's body, Harry pulled the dagger from her neck and leaped toward her captor. From her vantage point, all Ginny could see was a large arm draped with a tattered black cloak deflect Harry's attempt and clamp down on his neck.

The arm around Ginny's neck tightened as sound exploded in her ears. His grip tightened more, until it felt as though her whole body was being squeezed. She struggled to breathe and slowly, the world around her faded into blackness. She wondered if she was being suffocated. The even more terrifying truth hit her a moment later as the pressure disappeared and she fell to the ground. It was covered in harsh, gritty sand.

She had Disapparated.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

This chapter is for all of you people who have been curious about Josef's subtle hints about Harry and Hermione. We also finally get to see just how these vampires are being created (in case it wasn't clear before).

This should be the last chapter to freely include French. For those of you who understand the French, I hope you enjoyed the extra humor. For those who don't, you miss a couple jokes, but gain the more authentic feel as Harry missed them, too.

I'd like to say I'm sorry for the slight cliffhanger at the end, but I'm not. If you're curious what happened, your best course of action will be to stick around for Chapter 12. I'll be away for a week or so for spring break, but I promise you'll have Chapter 12 when I return. Chapter 13 won't be far behind it.


	12. The Sands of Eridu

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

**The Sands of Eridu**

* * *

Harry awoke to find himself sprawled across a damp stone floor. A faint, clear light filtered down from somewhere above him. Blinking his eyes and straining against the shadows, he tried to get a look at his surroundings. Slowly, rows of tall pillars began to stand out against the darkness. The realization of where he was struck him like a cold breeze. 

He had been brought back to the Chamber of Secrets. There was no sign of the cloaked wizard, and even more importantly, no sign of Ginny. His whole body ached as he got to his feet, but he forced himself to keep moving. Following the pillars of coiled snakes, he continued toward the far end of the Chamber. He didn't know exactly what he'd find, but he felt certain that was where he would find it. 

Harry reached the last set of pillars and paused. Something wasn't right. He remembered the statue of Salazar Slytherin very clearly, and it very clearly wasn't the statue in front of him. Instead of Slytherin's monkey-like features and long beard, the face of the figure carved into the wall was obscured by the deep hood of a cloak that hung down to its knees. 

Looking at the statue's feet, Harry spotted a pair of small shapes. One of them was lying on its side, motionless and draped in brilliant white. The shape was obviously feminine, and as he approached slowly, he could see her flaming-red hair almost glowing against the dingy floor. The other, a dark-haired wizard, appeared to be sitting on the ground nearby, propped up against the heavy boots of the statue. Only a few feet away, the dead body of a Basilisk lay in a twisted heap, bloody holes where its eyes had been and its jaws still opened from its last gasping breath. 

Harry came to an abrupt stop. What was he seeing? It was almost like seeing something out of his own memory, but it couldn't be. The two figures in front of him were not children, but a young man and a woman. Ginny had been only eleven years old and he had been only twelve. She had been wearing her black robes, not the fine, silky material the woman was wearing. 

Something was wrong. He continued walking closer, stepping as quietly as he could, almost as if the sound of his boots might shatter the vision. Neither of them were moving. The man was sitting with his back oddly straight and his head bent uncomfortably to rest against the stone statue. Even through the shadows covering his face, he looked quite pale. The woman seemed to have collapsed suddenly, her limbs lying haphazardly across the stone. 

Harry came to a stop a dozen paces away from them. Something truly was wrong. The man's robes were soaked with blood which looked to have come from a large, nasty-looking hole in his upper chest. A strange feeling came over him. He no longer liked the idea that this man was him, though it was one he could not easily discard. 

Forcing himself to continue on, he focused on the woman. Like the wizard, she was lying perfectly still, her skin frighteningly pale. Crouching down next to her, he reached out to touch her shoulder. Feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric, he quickly rolled her onto her back. Her limbs flopped limply onto the stone floor. 

It was Ginny. With his heart pounding in his chest, he shook her, trying to get her to wake up, but her eyes remained closed. 

"Welcome back, Harry," a high pitched voice announced. "I've been waiting for you." 

Harry looked up and found the wizard staring at him with bright green eyes. As searing pain shot through his scar, he recognized the young man's face. 

"No," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're gone. You're dead. I killed you. I destroyed you." 

"Did you?" Tom Riddle asked as a malicious grin spread across his face. "Perhaps you did, yet here I am." 

"You're not here," said Harry, uncertain just who or what he was talking to. "You can't be. You weren't even real. You were nothing more than a shard of your former soul trapped in a diary. I destroyed the diary and I destroyed you. You're nothing now. You failed. You lost everything." 

Riddle just stared back at him with a faint smile. "Not everything. I still have her," he said, leering at Ginny. "You may have taken everything else, but you will never take her. She was mine from the very start and she will always be mine." 

"You're wrong," Harry insisted as he approached Ginny again. This time, as he touched her shoulder, she stirred, taking in a deep breath. However, when her eyes opened, they weren't the deep chocolate brown he knew so well, but an icy blue so pale that they looked almost white. Harry recoiled immediately, remembering the similar color of Lucy's eyes the afternoon she had leaped from Hermione's flat. 

"What did you do?" he shouted at Riddle. "What have you done to her?" Pressing his hands against his eyes until they ached, he tried to concentrate as much as he could. What was happening? How could Riddle have done this? It wasn't possible. 

"I haven't done anything," Riddle said with a chuckle. "This is her choice. She loves me. Deep inside her heart, she has always loved me." 

White hot fury boiled in Harry's veins. "No!" he shouted. "You're lying!" 

"Am I?" Riddle asked. "Then why is she at my side instead of yours? Why hasn't she run to you and embraced you? Look at her," he commanded. "If I am lying, why has she said nothing?" Now sitting up, Ginny's colorless eyes darted from Harry to Riddle and back, looking at both of them with similar feelings of doubt and longing. Her ambivalence tore at Harry's heart. Slowly, she turned toward Harry and gave him an apologetic look. 

"You don't love her! You don't know how. You only ever wanted to use her!" 

Riddle's head fell back as he let out a high pitched laugh. "And what does that matter? She is mine and nothing you do can ever take her from me." 

"You're making her do this," growled Harry. Without knowing why, his eyes fell on the Basilisk. "She isn't yours," he said heavily, "and I'll see that she never is." 

Seething with anger, Harry strode over to the Basilisk and grabbed one of the thing's huge fangs, intending to use it to end whatever might be left of Tom Riddle. The task was more difficult than he expected, and he was forced to grip the fang in his left hand while bracing against the serpent's head with his other arm and one of his feet. 

"No, Harry!" Ginny shouted from behind him. "Stop, please!" 

Harry tried to ignore her. "You're not yourself, Ginny," he said as he strained against the enormous tooth. "He's controlling you again." He pulled harder and began to hear the soft cracking noises which heralded success. 

"Don't do it, Harry," she pleaded. "You don't know the danger you're—" 

Harry's anger surged and he pushed against the creature's jaw with all his strength. He was rewarded with a loud _snap_ and a slight shift in the angle of the fang. Sensing that he'd finally done it, he gave the tooth one last tug to free it. Instead of popping free, the fang fractured in his hand, filling it with a sharp, searing pain. 

Falling backward onto the stone floor, Harry swore loudly and opened his hand. He had broken off the largest part of the fang, but the edge of the splinter was razor sharp and had produced a deep cut across his palm which was now covered with a thick oily liquid which was oozing from the fang. 

"No! Harry!" wailed Ginny as she ran toward him. "No— What have you done?" 

An unbearable sensation was creeping up Harry's arm from his hand. It felt as though his bones were being burnt and frozen at the same time. His heart raced and his chest heaved as his eyes scoured the Chamber for some sign of hope. Where was Fawkes? Fawkes had been there the first time. Where was he now that Harry needed him again? 

Ginny came to an abrupt stop just a few feet away. Instead of dropping down next to him to help or even comfort him, she just stood over him, watching him warily, as if he were someone to be feared. Behind her, Harry saw Tom watching both of them, a faint hissing laugh escaping from his throat. Clenching his hand around the splinter of fang, Harry pushed himself to his feet. At the very least, he'd stop Tom from laughing any more. 

"Harry, stop this," she begged him. "It's not real, Harry. It's just a trick." 

"It doesn't feel like a trick," he replied harshly, holding his poisoned hand up for her to see. The skin was already turning a sickening ashen color, as though it were already dead. The pain seemed to be coming from everywhere. He didn't know how much more time he had. 

"Just... leave, Harry," Ginny told him, a single tear trickling down her cheek. 

"No," he replied. "Not while he's still here. He needs to be stopped. I need you to help me." 

Ginny's face fell. She shook her head slowly. "No, Harry. I won't help you." 

Laying limp against the boot of the statue, Tom Riddle let out another round of bitter laughter. "You see, Harry? She'll always be mine." His eyes slipped over to Ginny and filled with a fierce, hungry light. It was too much for Harry to bear. He raised the fang in his hand and made a move to change at Tom. 

"No, Harry!" Ginny said, stepping in front of him. "No, please. Leave him. He won't hurt you. We need to leave this place. We'll go together, I promise." Slowly, she reached up to the hand Harry held the fang in and gently pushed it down. 

He felt strange. He could feel the poison spreading up his arm, but it no longer frightened him. It was hard to feel frightened with Ginny at his side. Relaxing, he looked away from Tom and back at her, but found her eyes unwilling to meet his. 

Something was wrong. Ginny looked up at him suddenly, her pale eyes filled with a malicious hatred he'd never seen in her before. He tried to step away from her, but found her hand wrapped tightly around his left wrist. Before he could wrench it from her grasp, she had pulled a long, jewel-encrusted sword from behind her back. With a single, swift movement, she drove the sword through his forearm and twisted the blade, tearing sinew and cracking bone. Harry cried out in pain and dropped the fang immediately. 

Tearing his arm away from her, he doubled over in pain. "Why?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Why did you— How could you—"

Tom's laughs echoed through the Chamber as Harry watched his life draining out of the wound in his arm. Ginny simply stared at him with soulless eyes. "Wake up," she commanded him sharply. 

"What— How—" 

She strode toward him and swung the sword fiercely. Bent over, struggling with overwhelming pain and taken completely by surprise, there was nothing Harry could do. The pommel of the sword struck him in the jaw and the world around him dissolved away. 

* * *

Ginny's eyes blinked slowly as she stared down at the ground, fearing what she might find if she looked up. She had no idea where she was, but a soft, cool breeze and pale moonlight told her that she was outside. Beyond that, things didn't seem to get much better. The night air was clear and absolutely silent. The sand beneath her was gritty, warm and unlike anything she could really remember around France or Britain. Wherever she was, it was deserted and far from anyone who might help her. 

The cloaked wizard had brought her there. Was he still nearby? Had he left? What had happened to Harry? Her mind was filled with questions, but she was almost as afraid of the answers as she was of the questions. Looking up from the ground, she found a flat expanse of sandy hills stretching out beneath the night sky. Looming over her was a tall, half-built or half-destroyed mountain of brick and stone.

A soft noise caught her attention and she turned to find Harry lying on the sand no more than ten feet away. His eyes were closed, but she could see them twitching beneath their lids as if he were in the middle of a dream. He flinched and made an expression of fear and anger, then seemed to recoil. 

He was having a nightmare. Ginny pushed herself onto her knees and began crawling toward him. Before she could cover even half the distance, a pair of heavy black boots strode into view and stopped in front of her. 

She looked up and found the shape of a tall, hooded wizard silhouetted against the moon. A pair of pale green eyes shone from under the hood. As quickly as she could, Ginny flipped herself over and pushed herself away as her hand reached into her pocket to retrieve her wand. He stood in place and watched her in passive silence. Ginny tried to prepare herself for whatever attack he might have planned, but her hand failed to find her wand. 

"I have relieved you of your wands," he said, motioning toward a pile of sand some distance away. "They would do little to help you, anyway. You would only end up causing yourselves more pain." He said nothing more, calmly turned away and began pacing across the flat sand. 

Harry let out a sharp gasp and grasped his left arm as if in pain. Ginny leaped across the sand and grabbed his shoulders. Shaking them gently, she called to him, trying desperately to wake him. He didn't wake, and reacted to her voice with a look of fear and panic. 

"Harry, wake up," she begged him. "It's not real, Harry. It's just a dream." 

"I doubt your lies will do much to ease his pain," the wizard commented icily. "The world is a harsh place. He has allowed himself to ignore this for some time. Reality, I am afraid, is never a comfortable thing, and his reality is even less so." He turned around to look down at Ginny. "I wish I could say that he will live," he added, sounding almost sincere. 

Eyeing the dim shape of her wand, she tried to guess just how long it would take her to get it. It might only be a second or two, but the cloaked wizard would surely know. So long as he was still unwilling to attack her, it would work. Beside her, Harry shuddered again as he began taking in deep labored breaths. 

"I won't let you kill him," Ginny growled as she prepared to stand up. 

"Of course not," the wizard snapped. "You would do it yourself. You _will_ do it. It is your nature. Why not do it now?" he asked smoothly. "Your wand is right over there. He cannot defend himself or beg you to spare him. It can be quick and painless for us all. Do it," he urged her. "Show him mercy. End his life now before he finds out what you really are." 

"No," she replied with simple defiance. 

"No?" he repeated. his voice rumbling with anger. "You showed no hesitation at all when it was my turn to be betrayed."

"No, it wasn't me," Ginny snapped, finally overcome with fear and frustration. "You're insane. You've made up this story to try and justify your lust for power and destruction. You're an evil, heartless and soulless creature, but I have done nothing to betray you." 

"You surely did," he disagreed softly. "My existence is more than enough to prove that." 

"Then how can I know so little about it?" she shouted. "I've only been alive for eighteen years. I've only been using a wand for the last seven. You claim that I maliciously betrayed you, but I can't remember it at all." 

"No, you would not," he answered, completely unaffected by the verbal assault. If anything, his mood had become almost somber, though filled with a frightening tension. 

"That was... a different life," he said. "Back then, I had not yet become... what I am now. You do not remember, but I do. You did not have to wade through the millennia, torn from everything you cared about, stripped of everything you were until only rage and hunger remain." 

He strode toward Ginny, wisps of black smoke curling off of his cloak. "You have no idea what eternity is. You have never been forced to stare into the black abyss of death until you were begging for it to swallow you whole. You have not known real torture, real pain, real agony. I have. I have been forced to endure ages of suffering, unable to share my torment with the one who gave it to me." 

"It wasn't me," insisted Ginny. "I told you—"

"_It was you!_" the cloaked wizard roared as black mist crawled across the sand. "It was you. For thousands of years I crawled in the dark, my ears filled with the whispers of invisible, slithering things, my eyes seeing nothing but the face of the one who had imprisoned me. Do you think I would forget that? Do you think that I would not recognize you?" 

With one hand he reached out to her and she slowly retreated from his pale hand. The skin wasn't withered or blackened as she expected. Instead, it looked almost youthful, the only sign of corruption being the blackened fingernails and a number of scars running in thin lines across his hand. 

"It _is_ you," he repeated. His eyes bore into her, his lips barely moving as he spoke in a quiet, menacing tone. "You abandoned me. You betrayed me. You were supposed to be the cure —my cure. You were perfect and pure, full of light to chase away the darkness. I offered you everything. There was nothing I would have denied you. You were supposed to bring balance, but you were so much more than that. You were an angel. You were my Angel, come to rescue me —to rescue the world and bring a new age of peace." 

He turned away from her suddenly and stood over Harry. When he spoke, his voice took on a much darker tone. "I offered so much and asked for so little, yet you took everything from me. Perhaps I should take everything from you. Perhaps then you would understand."

He extended one of his hands and Harry gasped in pain as he clutched at his left arm. Ginny leaped to Harry's side and tried to shake him again. Getting no response, she glared up at the cloaked wizard, fury boiling in her stomach. 

"Stop it!" she screamed. "Do you truly want revenge? Do you really want to know who to blame for your fate? It's_you_. You brought this upon yourself. Whoever you think I am, they abandoned you because of what you had become. Whatever happened to you, you _deserved_ it!" she shouted. "I wish I had betrayed you! I wish I could remember it! I wish I could do it again!" 

Ginny had said this in a desperate, perhaps futile, attempt to stop the cloaked wizard from doing whatever he was doing to Harry. It seemed to work, though she began to wonder if it was really worthwhile. Harry's body relaxed almost immediately, his breathing became more regular, and his eyelids fluttered slightly. 

The cloaked wizard simply stared at her, his body rigid and his fists clenched as dark veins began to spread across his knuckles. "You wish you could do it again?" he growled. He stood for a moment, wreathed in a dark smoke, his eyes flitting between Ginny, Harry and their wands. He began pacing slowly, like a predator contemplating the fate of his trapped prey. 

"Wake him," he snarled, pointing a blackened finger toward Harry. When Ginny didn't immediately follow his command, he spun around and jabbed a hand into the night air. Ginny felt Harry's head jerk backward and he woke suddenly, blood dripping from a nasty cut on his lip. 

* * *

With his teeth aching and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, Harry's eyes opened and found Ginny leaning over him. He jerked away from her, prepared to defend himself, though he didn't know just how he'd do that. The pain in his jaw had eclipsed the rest of his pain for a moment, or perhaps he only had a moment left and the rest of his body had already given up. 

"What happened— What are you—" he began, then stopped as he saw her eyes. They were brown again and staring down at him with genuine concern. His eyes immediately jumped to his left arm. The pain was gone, as was the horrible wound from the sword, and his hand looked healthy again. "What... happened?" he asked slowly. His head was beginning to throb. 

"You were dreaming, Harry," she answered stiffly. 

"So you hit me?" he snapped, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and examining the smear of blood. 

"It wasn't me," she replied rather more insistently than he expected. With a slight nod, she directed his attention off to his right. 

The cloaked wizard was standing nearby, his black cloak somewhat obscured by a thick black vapor that seemed to be passing through it and slowly descending to the sandy dune beneath them. 

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked quietly. Neither Ginny nor Harry responded, and the cloaked wizard didn't seem to care or even notice. 

"I was taught a lesson here, long ago," he began, "though it seems I had forgotten it. Betrayal and mutiny are integral in the spirit of witches and wizards, it seems. I was naÃ¯ve to think that it was not. Just as it had happened before, they turned on me." 

"The first wizards?" prompted Harry, trying to keep him talking while he inched closer to his wand. 

"Not the first," the cloaked wizard replied, "yet that is where the story begins, of course. The taint of her treachery was there from the start. I can see that now, but at the time, my eyes were blinded. 

"I do not know how long I had been imprisoned when they found me," he said. "I know only that I had passed beyond the bounds of flesh and bone. In the darkness, time does not seem to exist, yet it did and so did I. I had almost forgotten what the sunlight felt like. I wanted to bathe in its warmth, but compared to the fires of anger and hatred within me, the world was nothing more than a frozen wasteland. 

"They had freed me from my tomb, but not from my imprisonment," he said, giving Ginny a sidelong glance. "Know that the fate you have chosen for me is far worse than any man might devise from wood, metal, or stone. My rescuers sensed my strength, the power seething within me. They revered and worshiped me, and I repaid them with whatever knowledge of magic they could manage to learn. With their primitive abilities, they built towers and meager monuments meant to display their gratitude. 

"In time I learned their various languages, and they spoke to me as children might speak to a village elder. They wished to know of me and how I had come to be. In my foolishness, I told them what they might understand and listened when they asked how they might be of service to me. 

"I let hope creep into the empty space where my heart had once been. I gathered the greatest of them and began to train them in advanced magical arts. The wizards of that time were not so... controlled as they are now. They needed no wands and did not use them. Their magic was wild and primal, stronger than any wizard in the last millennia. Some could drive the sea to their bidding, yet few could do something as simple as lighting a candle. 

"I ignored the growing discomfort I felt and taught them magic far more advanced than what they had learned on their own. I taught them how to heal, how to kill, how to travel across continents, and how to begin to bend the world to their wills. I brought the best of them here, to Eridu," he said, holding his arms out to the empty dunes around them. "For almost a thousand years, they worked eagerly, exploring the mysteries of death and immortality. I grew obsessed with their progress. My power continued to grow, and my agony with it. They were close to finding a way to allow me to harness it, to master the flames raging within me. 

"Then I found the first chamber," he growled. "It was right here, under the city —_my_ city— the city they built with the magic _I_ taught them. I saw the Gate, and I immediately perceived the threat it posed. I tried to destroy it, but they stopped me. They must have spent hundreds of years preparing themselves, waiting for that moment. 

"They sought to finish what she had started," he said, glaring again at Ginny. "Looking into the past, they studied what she had done and attempted to recreate it. Their efforts were clumsy and ill-planned. Slowly, I turned them against each other, taking their lives one by one even as they struggled to keep me shackled. In the end, they succeeded only by sacrificing one of their brethren. His soul is with me still, screaming for his own revenge, but it is lost in the howling of a thousand others, none louder than my own." 

The cloaked wizard began pacing again, though he never took his eyes off Harry and Ginny. "I neither expect nor desire your pity. I am telling you this so that you might understand what is to come. This is a lesson I should have learned thousands of years ago. I promise you, I will not forget again. I will not let their crimes against me be repeated." 

"Crimes?" Harry repeated. "You were using them. You would have betrayed them if they hadn't found out what you really were." 

"Do you think I deserve this?" he growled, holding his arms out to his side and tossing wisps of black smoke into the night air. "Do you think this is justice? What had I done to her to be ripped from the world? What had I done, after thousands of years of exile, to deserve to be imprisoned with the dead?" 

"I believe you've earned your punishment, yes," replied Harry. "Whatever their reasons were, you haven't done much since then to prove that you're really an honest bloke. No one made you kill those people in Romania. You didn't have to attack Paris during a celebration. We all make our own choices." 

"That may be true," replied the cloaked wizard, "but we do not make our own fates. Only now do I see the paradox in this. In the end, others have much more control over our futures than we do ourselves. 

"I cannot change that past, Harry. It was foolish of me to even believe such a thing was possible. It has always been a fault of witches and wizards." He turned to look out across the sand at the enormous mountain of rubble. "Since the very beginning they have sought to find the most permanent solutions, even when it is impossible and a far better course is nearer at hand." He turned back to stare at Harry with eyes that flickered with malevolent green light. "I presumed that I was above such mortal flaws. I admit now that I was not seeing everything, but that time is over. My eyes are open. I now know what I am. I understand my purpose." 

Harry's eyes flitted to his wand and then back to the wizard. "Oh?" 

"I am the hammer of fate," it said slowly. "I am creation and destruction. The foolish ideals of good and evil are of no consequence to me. I am that which both unites and divides them. I am the other end of the circle. I have been created to put right a great wrong and I will see it done." 

He turned away, looking at the large ruins. "I must thank you. With your help, I have awoken. I have been bound in shackles of my own making, but I have finally cast them off. The past, it seems, cannot be repaired. The wrongs against me will not be repaid. There is no path which will lead me to my goal. My fate, you see, was not of my own design. It was created and directed by others. I have accepted this and a new path has been made clear to me. 

"I may not be able to control my fate," it said as it turned to face them both, "but _you_ can. This is the path_you_ have crafted for me. I will make you understand the results of your actions. You must be made to feel the pain you have caused, hear the screams of the suffering you have brought to the world, and see the cost of your decisions. That is why you both still live... for now. I do not desire either of your deaths. The question is: do you?" 

"You expect us to beg you for our lives?" Harry asked. 

"Not me, Harry," the wizard laughed. "If you wish to live, beg _her_ for mercy." 

"Why me?" Ginny shouted with renewed strength. "I wasn't the one who put you behind the Veils! They're gone. They're all dead, like you should be. Nothing you do here can change that!"

With a furious shout, the cloaked wizard turned and glared at her, green light from his eyes glinting off the sand. "Enough," he roared. "I have heard enough." He took a step toward her and Harry moved quickly to put himself between them. Without even touching him, the cloaked wizard sent Harry sailing backward through the air. 

Harry landed some distance away, kicking up a small cloud of sand. There was no time. Sensing that it might be his only opportunity, Harry's eyes immediately found his wand lying in the sand no more than ten feet away. With the wizard distracted, he should be able to reach it. As quickly as he could, he pushed himself up onto his feet and leapt forward. 

The moment his feet left the ground, he knew something was wrong. He knew he'd jumped, yet the dunes around him seemed to be getting taller. A second later, he felt his chest hit the sand again, no more than a foot from where he had been before. With a jolt of panic, he suddenly realized that he was on the edge of a large pit which had opened in the sand. As quickly as he looked behind him to confirm what his legs already felt, the pit collapsed, filling itself with sand and swallowing Harry up to his chest. He tried to struggle, but every movement just seemed to make the sand press in even harder. Within moments, it was getting hard to breathe. 

A piercing shriek brought Harry's attention back to Ginny. Clutching at her jaw, the dark wizard was holding her where she stood. She grappled with his arm but Harry could see that there was nothing she could do to stop him. Leaning close to her, he reached up to run a single darkened finger along her lips. Ginny tried to recoil in disgust but managed to do little more than close her eyes. 

"I have not forgotten," it said to her in a deep voice. "Through all the countless years and across the cold, infinite emptiness of the world of the dead, the memory and pain of your betrayal has remained as sharp as ever. It is a wound that will not heal. It is the source. It is a poison released into the world, twisting everyone it touched. You cannot undo what has been done, but you must be taught the cost of your decisions. You must open your eyes." As he spoke, his grip on her jaw tightened, making her gasp in pain. "_Open your eyes!_" he growled again. "I must know that I have your full attention." 

Harry watched helplessly as she opened her eyes, letting a tear trickle down her cheek. As it reached the dark wizard's hand, he paused to look at it as if the very touch of it was repulsive to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny said in a hoarse voice. "I'm not—" 

"You must see what you have done. Denial will not help you," he snarled. "I warned you this was coming. There is nothing he can do to save you from this. Our time is fast approaching, but before it arrives you _must_ be shown the consequences of your betrayal. I will not fail again. There is no limit to what I will do to accomplish this task. I have only begun to show you what you have done. You _will_ know the damage you have wrought even if I must destroy everything and everyone you hold dear." 

"Why?" she screamed. "What do you want from me?"

"Pain!" he roared, filling the air with an inky vapor. "Suffering and agony! I want you to feel one moment of what I have endured for millennia. That is the only way you will learn. That is your only chance for redemption. There are only two choices for you to make, Ginny. One leads to agony, despair and death, and I alone can lead you down the other." 

"I'll never help you," she shouted. 

"I do not need your help," he replied. "It is your friends, your family, and every other witch and wizard in the world who need your help. They are the ones who will pay the price for your defiance." The wizard released Ginny, letting her collapse onto the ground with a shriek of pain. "I am afraid that it is time for me to go," he announced. "I have business beneath the sand, and you have been kept from your friends long enough. I fear for their safety." 

Suddenly, Harry felt the horrible squeezing of the sand around him disappear. The sand was still there, but he could move again. He began to attempt to free himself, but it was almost impossible. He needed help, but Ginny was still sprawled across the sand, gasping for breath. 

The dark wizard had turned and was already walking away. He had taken less than a dozen steps when he stopped suddenly and waved his hand at the darkness. The air in front of him shimmered briefly, slowly revealing the shape of a large arched entryway that descended into the sand. Harry heard the sound of metal doors grinding against sand, then watched as the cloaked wizard disappeared through the archway and shut the doors behind him. 

Harry instantly understood what was happening. The Veil was still there, somewhere beneath them, and the cloaked wizard was there to destroy it. He had brought Harry and Ginny to the very place where the ancient wizards had figured out how to stop him. If only he could manage to escape, they might be able to find something to help them. He began struggling against the sand, trying to free himself as quickly as he could. Ginny slowly crawled over to him and began helping. It was impossible. Every handful of sand they moved was quickly replaced by another sliding in from the side. 

"The wands!" Harry shouted, pointing off to where their wands still lay peacefully in the rippled sand. Ginny fetched them immediately and began trying a number of charms as Harry continued to struggle against the relentless mountain of sand around him. 

"Harry, close your eyes!" she shouted. 

Without a second thought, he did as she told him. Almost immediately, he felt a brisk wind strike his face and chest. He hunched over a little, shielding his face from the gale. 

"Dig, Harry!" Ginny ordered. "Just close your eyes and dig!" 

He suddenly understood what was happening. Plunging his hands into the sand around him, he began tossing sand behind him where it was quickly swept away by the wind. A minute later, he had cleared all the sand down to his thighs and was able to start to pull his legs out. Bracing himself against the packed sand in front of him, he managed to wrench one leg free, then use the other to pull himself completely out. The wind died almost instantly and he felt a hand grasp his arm and help him claw his way out of the small pit he was in. 

"We've got to stop him," Harry said as he struggled to his feet. 

Ginny handed him a wand and together they dashed toward the top of the arched tunnel which was still barely visible. When they had crossed no more than half the distance, they felt a deep rumble and the sand shifted beneath them, making them both tumble to the ground.

While he tried to push himself up, Harry felt a second, much more powerful tremor shake the ground. Deep groans punctuated by low popping noises reverberated through the sand. 

"Harry... what's happening?" 

Harry looked up and saw the sand around them shifting slowly. Its rippled surface had disappeared, making it look almost like a block of solid stone. Suddenly, another loud noise shook the ground and Harry spotted something rising up out of the sand. The sand around it swirled away as it shifted steadily. Harry raised his wand, ready for whatever might be causing it. 

The sand seemed to flow away from it to reveal a single straight edge. It looked like a huge stone tile. As it turned on its end, the regular edge ended abruptly in a jagged break which glistened in the sun with thousands of tiny crystals. The ground beneath them lurched dangerously and Harry finally understood what was happening. 

A pair of giant plumes sent sand shooting high into the air above them. They lasted for mere seconds before suddenly collapsing and creating two wide cones of sand rapidly slipping underground. The Veil chamber must have been just beneath them and now it was collapsing. They didn't have time to waste. 

The whole area seemed to be sinking much faster than Harry had realized. Ginny was already running away and calling for Harry to follow her. A quick survey of the situation told him that it was a futile attempt. The chamber must have been huge. They'd never find the edge in time. Sprinting after her and avoiding pockets of sinking sand, he caught up with her just before a huge pit opened right in their path. 

"Harry, we won't make it!" she screamed. 

"We will. Just hold on to me!" 

He felt Ginny's arms wrap around his waist and closed his eyes. He needed to relax and concentrate. He just needed to be safe. There had to be some answer. It only needed to be nearby and attached to some strong memory. A thunderous _crack_ shook his legs and then he felt strangely weightless. Ginny was screaming against his shoulder and the world became suddenly dark. He gripped his wand tightly and focused all his concentration on an empty street and a red-haired witch who boldly defied his demands. 

* * *

With a loud _crack_, the world snapped back into place followed by sharp pains all throughout Harry's body as his legs collapsed and he and Ginny struck the ground. It was sandy, but beneath it was hard stone. It made the fall quite a bit more painful, but more reassuring as well. 

Pushing himself up, he took a quick look around. They were in the middle of a street lined with darkened shops and flickering torches. Harry recognized the street. However, something didn't feel quite right. Though it was already well into the evening, this particular street should have been reasonably busy well into the night. 

Ignoring this for the moment, Harry helped Ginny to her feet. Within seconds of looking around, he could see that she had begun to question the silence as well. 

"I know this place... Why is it so quiet?" she asked, casting worried glances at the abandoned buildings all around them. "Where are we?" 

"Giza," Harry answered slowly. 

"Yes, of course," she said, pausing to catch her breath. "This was where that wizard— er, you— tried to take the talisman from me. Why— why are we here? I mean— why here? Why not somewhere else?" 

Harry lit his wand and searched the area, but found nothing. "To be honest, I don't really know where Eridu is. This seemed to be the most likely place to be close enough to Apparate to." 

"Why are the shops closed?" she asked. "If this is the same street, I thought it would have been more busy than this."

"I don't know," Harry replied, "but we don't really have time to figure it out. We need to go." 

"Where?" 

"The palace at the end of this street," he answered. "There is a fireplace there. It should be well-connected to the Floo Network." 

Ginny, of course, already knew about this fireplace. It was the very same one she had used in her escape from Giza the previous autumn. There was always a chance that they wouldn't be welcome at the palace. Harry had only used the fireplace there twice, and both times he had been escorted by the Brotherhood. If that failed, he could always turn to the goblins at Gringotts. It would be slower, but he was still a little shaken from their narrow escape and he didn't know how safe it would be for him. Ginny didn't look any more confident. 

As they continued down the street, they began to notice that it was not completely abandoned. They began to spot dark silhouettes moving quickly along the shadowy edges of the street. None of them slowed at all to look at Harry and Ginny. If anything, they seemed too eager to put as much distance as possible between them. Harry tried to stop one of them but failed, getting little more than panicked muttering and the wizard's quick disappearance into a darkened building. 

Suddenly, a door opened nearby, spilling bright, golden light across the flattened stone of the street. Harry and Ginny stopped abruptly and found an old man standing in the doorway watching them. After a moment of silence, he raised an arm and gestured for them to come toward him. His quick glance at Ginny got a confused shrug. They had no reason to fear the man. 

As they approached him, he began speaking very quickly in a low voice. Harry strained to make out what he was saying, but it sounded like Arabic and he'd never learned more than a few words of it. Shaking his head at the man to tell him he didn't understand, he stepped into the light. With a questioning expression, the man asked them something in another language Harry didn't recognize. 

"I only understand English," Harry said, choosing not to claim any knowledge of French. 

"Ah, British," the man replied with a nod. "That would explain it, I suppose." 

Harry sensed he was talking about more than just their language difficulties. "That would explain what?" 

"Why you are so willing to openly walk this street," the man whispered. "Come in, come in. I have a room you can stay in, if you like, and I'll only charge you the usual rate. I'm not one to take advantage of visitors." 

"We aren't looking for a place to stay," Harry told him.

"Well then, you'd best get to wherever it is you're going," he replied. "It's not safe to wander about at night." 

"Why not?" 

The man gave them a strange look. "You don't know? You must have seen the signs. Everyone has been talking about it for days."

Harry and Ginny exchanged worried looks. "Actually, we just arrived." 

"Then perhaps you should be leaving as well. This is not the best time for tourists to visit." Though the man was visibly uncomfortable with the discussion, Harry pressed him for more information and he eventually gave them a rushed explanation. 

"Strange things have been happening," he said, peering down the street. "People have been... acting strangely. Over the past few days, people have started asking questions." 

"Er, I don't think I understand," replied Harry. "Asking questions about what?" 

"About temples," the man whispered. "Temples no one has ever heard about." 

Ginny was just as confused by this answered. "But they're asking about them. Surely _they_ have heard of them." 

"No," the wizard answered emphatically. "They walk about, asking strange questions, as though they were looking for something. Hours later, they can't remember where they've been or what they were doing." 

Ginny turned to stare at Harry. He already knew what she was thinking. It sounded much like what she'd gone through when Voldemort had been controlling her. "Have you seen anyone else? A wizard who wears dark cloaks?" 

The old man's eyes narrowed. "I— I don't know... I haven't heard anything like—" 

"Do you remember what they were asking?" Harry pressed him. "Do you know who they talking to?" 

The man didn't reply immediately. He simply stood completely still, unwilling or unable to take his eyes off Harry's face. "Your... eyes—" Grasping the edge of the door with both hands, he began to pull it closed. "I think— I think you should be moving on," he said in a quavering voice. "It's very late. Good evening!" 

Harry tried to stop the man, but the door slammed shut far too quickly. Almost immediately, the light in the window disappeared and he heard the sound of something rather heavy being moved across a stone floor and against the door. Taking this as a sign that the man was no longer interested in speaking with them, Harry decided it was best if they just made their way to the palace. Josef, Ron, Hermione and the others were no doubt worried about them. 

Before too long, they saw even more reason for them to hurry. Ahead of them, flames were starting to reach into the sky. Hurrying forward, they spotted a small number of wizards in guard robes standing in the middle of the street. Off to the left, Harry recognized the dim alley which split off from the street. At the end was the large estate which had been loaned to Grigore Tarus during the meeting of the Quidditch World Cup delegates. 

One of the guards spotted them and barked an order. Harry could only guess what it was and stopped immediately. Light from a pair of wands turned on them as the other two wizards approached them quickly while shouting orders to them in an assortment of languages. 

"Who are you?" the man finally shouted in a frantic voice. "What are you doing here?" It was clear that both of them were very agitated. 

"We're just trying to get home," Harry called out to them. 

"Then go!" one shouted back. "Turn around and go back where you came from. This is no place for tourists." 

"What— When did that happen?" Ginny asked, pointing down the alley. Harry followed her arm and saw a large stone arch halfway down the alley wreathed in flame. The pub next to it was engulfed in a blazing inferno. Ginny obviously recognized the pub as the very same place where she had met Grigore Tarus. 

"Not more than two minutes ago," the guard replied. "Where exactly did you come from? Have you seen anything abnormal? Have you seen any other wizards on the street?" 

Harry shook his head distractedly, still trying to understand what the burning pub could mean. "Just a few walking in the shadows," he replied. "No one heading this direction. We weren't really—"

"Did you see him?" shouted a new voice. Everyone in the street turned to see a guard running toward them from the alley. "Is he still here? Did you see which way he went?" 

"What are you talking about, Abdul?" barked the guard in front of Harry. 

"It was the green-eyed demon!" the man shouted back in a quavering voice. "He's here! An old woman and a pair of young wizards swear they saw him do it and then he just disappeared." 

Harry's first reaction was to lower his head in an attempt to keep the light off of his eyes. The last thing they needed was to become the subject of scrutiny by a band of panicked guards. The head guard turned to the newcomer and began scolding him in Arabic. Harry assumed he was being chastised for shouting such information in front of strangers. Harry was thankful for his mistake but also deeply troubled. If it truly was the cloaked wizard —and Harry had no doubts that it was— then it suggested a much more troubling possibility. 

"We have to go," Harry whispered to Ginny. "I've got a really bad feeling about this. We need to get the others and get back to London as quickly as we can." 

The nearest guard heard him whispering and spun around to glare at them. "You said you saw nothing. Is that still true?" he asked. Harry kept his eyes on the street while Ginny nodded in agreement. "You told me you wanted to leave. If that's true, then turn around and go." 

"We are trying to return to London," Ginny explained, so that Harry could try to remain inconspicuous. "We need to get to the palace." 

"Do you think it's some sort of pub that anyone can step into?" he sneered. "It is the residence of the governor of Giza. It is restricted to official business only. You'll be better off finding an inn for the night. I do not envy the price you'll pay at this hour." 

"We're employees of the British Ministry of Magic," Ginny announced. "We are on an urgent mission for the Department of International Cooperation." 

The guard let out a frustrated growl. "Bah! Why didn't you simply tell us that earlier! Go on! See that you tell the palace guards the same thing instead of wasting their time as you have ours." 

Walking quickly past the annoyed guard, Harry and Ginny continued on their way to the palace. The fire must have been set by the cloaked wizard, but that would mean that he had come to Giza moments before they had. What was he doing there? Was he trying to delay them, or trick the Egyptians into keeping them there? His thoughts returned to Ron and Hermione and the others who were probably still in France either trying to figure out what had happened or waiting for him and Ginny to return. 

If word got out about the attack in Paris, the British Ministry would send Aurors, leaving the Ministry even more vulnerable than might normally be. What if everything —the attack at Paris and their abduction to Eridu— was just a diversion, a grand scheme to tear Harry away from the Ministry long enough for the cloaked wizard to destroy the one Veil Harry could best protect? 

He began walking faster. He needed to find the others and get them all back to London. He felt certain that some trap would be waiting for them. Ginny matched his pace without needing any explanation at all. 

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I know it's not the full explanation people were hoping for, but it's more information at the very least. If you want a full explanation, you may as well give up and simply wait for the end. 


	13. Dual Interrogations

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

**Dual Interrogations**

* * *

Smoke filled Ginny's eyes and lungs. Her robes were covered with soot, but for once the majority of it was not from the trip through the Floo Network. The floor and everything within sight around her was covered in varying levels of dark ash and dingy smoke hung in the air. If she hadn't just shouted her destination seconds ago, she wouldn't have even recognized the remnants of _Le Singe Ivre_.

Harry coughed as he peered into the gloomy haze surrounding them. Squinting into the multitude of flickering orange glows, Ginny began to hear —or think she could hear— a number of hesitant footsteps nearby. It seemed Harry had heard them as well and to Ginny's dismay, he walked into the smoke, his wand drawn and ready.

"Harry!" she hissed. "Come back!"

"Stay here," a voice whispered back to her, "and stay quiet."

Ignoring the command, she tried to follow him, but before she could ready her wand, he had slipped off and was little more than a shadow in the fog. After taking a few steps toward him, she slowed and finally came to a stop.

Harry was gone and the fireplace was barely visible behind her. The entire pub was cloaked in smoke and shadow and with little more than a hazy memory of what it had looked like, Ginny didn't have the courage to stray very far. As she shuffled back toward the dark blotch that she knew to be the fireplace, she heard muffled footsteps. She tried to tell herself that it was just Harry, but the noise had come from the opposite direction.

Continuing back to the fireplace, Ginny gripped her wand and began scanning the murky air for any sign of Harry's return. She was rather uncomfortable with his absence and as her eyes searched the flickering lights around her she became convinced that they were not alone.

Her body tensed as the sound of wood sliding across stone drifted toward her. A fuzzy burst of red light shone through the haze for a moment, before it was swallowed up just as suddenly as it appeared. Acting without thought, she strode toward the light, certain that it was Harry trying to call for help. The sound of more footsteps spurred her onward. Almost running, Ginny stopped paying attention to the ground and didn't see the broken chair until it was too late. Her shin struck the sturdy back of the chair and the pain made her stumble onto the soot-covered floor. Blinking against the pain, she looked up and found a dark shape moving quickly. She knew immediately that it was not Harry.

The shape descended on her before she could raise her wand, strong hands gripping at her shoulders and pulling her off the floor.

"You have to go!" it hissed threateningly. "Please trust me. You need to go back!"

Unaccustomed to having her attackers plead with her, Ginny stood for a moment and stared at the cloaked man in front of her. With a sharp movement, he tugged back his hood to reveal dark brown hair and a set of bright blue eyes which cut through the smoke.

"Go!" urged Josef. "There is no time to explain. Don't worry about Harry. I'll find him, but you must leave this instant." He reached out to her and forced a small pouch into her hand.

"What— Josef—" she stammered, her eyes tracking a pair of shadows that had passed in front of a nearby fire. "What's happened? Are you in danger?"

"You shouldn't have come back. Harry knows better," he hissed, turning her shoulders and pushing her through the smoke. "It's too late now.

"What— Where should I go?" she asked as panic crept up her chest.

"Harrington!" Josef whispered. "Find Harrington."

Indistinct shouts pushed through the thick air. A number of people were running toward her. Josef turned and raised his wand, firing a hex as the first of them burst through the smoke. The man, clothed in bright purple robes, collapsed immediately. A second man, just behind him, cried out and raised his wand.

"Go!" shouted Josef.

With effort, Ginny turned and ran. Josef had deliberately pointed her in one direction and she hoped that it would lead her to the fireplace. Her mind was filled with questions and thought of Harry and what might be happening, but she forced herself to trust Josef. She didn't know what Harrington had to do with this or how he could help, but she knew she would do whatever it took to find him.

The large fireplace loomed ahead of her, a dark hole in the fog. She opened the pouch Josef gave her and felt the gritty texture of Floo Powder. With a flick of her wand, flames burst to life in the fireplace. She pulled out a handful of powder and threw it into the flames with a roar of green sparks.

As she leaped into the flames, a strong hand clamped down across her mouth and jerked backward, bringing her to an abrupt and painful stop. With the green flames flickering just feet away, Ginny found herself struggling with a man who was much larger than her.

"Calm down, lass," he ordered gruffly. "We're not here to hurt you, but we will if you don't cooperate."

Ginny drove her elbow back and felt it strike the man's soft stomach. With a groan, he released her and swore under his breath. A second man stepped forward, but Ginny slipped past him and prepared to jump into the flames.

A voice rang out: "_Stupefy!_"

Ginny felt herself collapse, then the world around her fell into darkness.

* * *

"This is bad business, Harry," Scrimgeour announced sourly. "Very bad. People want answers and they're coming to me for answers."

Sitting at the other end of the table, Harry surveyed the room. It was dark and small, yet large enough that he couldn't make out the walls. Staring at him from across the table were Auguste Reynard and Gawain Robards, the head of the Aurors. Scrimgeour hovered anxiously behind them, glancing occasionally at Harry.

"Well?" the Minister prompted him. "If you have some sort of explanation, now would be the time to give it."

Harry kept his cool for the moment. "Robards said that Harrington was coming. Shouldn't we wait for him?"

"I don't see why," remarked Reynard. "His only interest here is in reporting the proceedings to the French and anyone else who might have some interest in it. He has no authority in this matter."

"He is also the supervisor of the accused," Robards interjected, "a situation—"

"Accused?" interrupted Harry. "And what is it I'm accused of?"

"Why don't you tell us?" Robards shot back. After Harry responded with a sharp glare, he turned back to the Minister. "It's just as I said. He's not going to be cooperative. Allowing Harrington to be here is only going to make things more difficult."

"Yes, yes, we're well aware of your opinion on the matter, Gawain," Scrimgeour said with an impatient wave of his hand. "I am perfectly capable of remembering conversations which happened five minutes ago and my response is still the same: I will not deny Harrington's request to be here, if only to provide someone who Harry might be willing to speak to."

"Why should he be unwilling to speak to us?" Reynard asked smoothly. "If he is as innocent as he claims, he should want to help us as much as he can. If he refuses to help us, it can only mean that—"

"That is for Gawain and I to judge, Auguste," the Minister interrupted.

"Rufus, you cannot ignore the pattern," Reynard hissed. "Whatever conflicts you and I might have, you must see that whatever the cause, the situation is getting dangerous."

"A theft in Bulgaria and an attack in Paris hardly make a pattern," the Minister mumbled.

"Perhaps not," agreed Reynard. "It's an attack in Paris today, but what will it be tomorrow? How long until something like this happens in London? How many lives are you willing to risk in the attempt to convince Britain that Harry's still on your side?"

"Now, there's no need to talk like that," Scrimgeour replied gruffly. "There are no _sides_ here, and you don't know if anything like this is going to happen here."

"I don't know and neither do you," Reynard answered. "That's the point. I think Potter does."

Harry simply sat back, watching the wizards argue, trying to take note of anything useful. None of the three men seemed to have much sympathy for him and Harry got the rather distinct feeling that none of them would believe a thing he said, whether it was the truth or not.

A sharp knock echoed through the room and before anyone could even turn around, the door swung open to reveal a winded Ferdinand Harrington. Instantaneously, all discussion in the room came to a halt and a tense silence hung in the air. Glaring at the three wizards clustered across from Harry, he walked into the room and took a seat off to Harry's right.

"I see you were kind enough to wait for me to arrive," Harrington said with a sarcastic smile.

"Listen closely, Harrington," Reynard said, leaning across the table to brandish a finger at him. "You're here on behalf of the French Ministry and any other foreign ministries. If you try to interfere with this investigation I will have you hauled before the Wizengamot."

"Ah, I see, then," Harrington replied flatly. "Well, it's always nice to feel welcome."

Reynard ignored his comment and turned to Harry with a hungry look in his eyes. "Why were you in Paris? Explain yourself, _now_," he demanded.

"Er, excuse me," Harrington interrupted before Harry could think of a response. "I certainly don't mean to interfere, but am I to report that this investigation is being done by our Department of Magical Law Enforcement or our Department of Mysteries." He held up his hands in a show of confusion. "I want to be as accurate as possible, but lately I've been having trouble telling one from the other."

Anger flared in Reynard's eyes, but Scrimgeour clearly understood Harrington's veiled accusation. "Remember, Auguste, you are only here to explain the implications of this attack. You have no more authority than Harrington does."

"Right," Harrington said with a nod, obviously pleased with himself. "So it's the Aurors, then. Very good. That will be much easier to explain." He nodded to Robards, who was beginning to look as uncomfortable as Harry. "I apologize, Gawain. You may continue —or start, I should say."

Robards frowned a bit before turning his attention toward Harry. "Alright, Potter," he said, "can you tell us just what you were doing in Paris?"

"There was a Quidditch match there," Harry said, choosing his words carefully to keep from lying. "Maybe you heard something about it."

Robards' frown deepened as his eyes glance briefly at Reynard. "Harry," he began sternly, "we know that you didn't go to the match and we spoke to the guard in the Atrium. You were right here after the match ended. Something made you leave for Paris."

Harry tried not to look at Harrington, and he knew that Harrington was trying not to look at him. The last thing Harry wanted was to get Harrington involved in whatever trouble he was in. After a deep breath, he answered the only way he could: "I knew something bad was going to happen there."

"_How_ did you know," pressed Reynard, earning him a pair of frustrated glances from the other two wizards.

This was easy enough to answer. "I got a message from Josef," he answered truthfully.

Of course, this still wasn't enough for them and within seconds they were demanding more information. Harry continued dodging the true reason for his journey while he tried to think of some excuse that they wouldn't be able to question.

"Why were you there, Harry?" Robards asked sharply. "There had to be a reason. You had to have some plan. What was it?"

"There was no plan," he insisted. "I didn't know what was happening. It wasn't my idea, it was Josef's."

Reynard let out a sigh and sat back in his chair. Robards tried to ignore the distraction. "So only Josef knew what was happening," Robards began skeptically. "If that's true, then tell us what he told you. What made him call you there?"

Harry smiled flatly, knowing he'd found a way to stall them. "We were interrupted before he could explain. If you want to know you'll just have to ask him."

"I told you," Reynard whispered.

Scrimgeour turned around and shook his head while Robards pulled out a quill and a sheet of parchment. Without asking any more questions, he wrote a couple quick sentences on the parchment, then tapped it with his wand. In a second, it folded itself up and flew off toward the door.

Harry began to wonder if he'd made a mistake.

* * *

Ginny felt herself jerk awake and stared up at the blurry shapes that hung in front of her. Nothing looked terribly familiar, but she didn't really know if that was to be expected. Blinking her eyes, her vision and memory began to clear.

She'd been stunned. A few more blinks and deep breaths and her surroundings fell into focus. She wasn't in the pub anymore. The air was clear and there wasn't even a hint of smoke. She was lying flat and a young man with dark eyes and dull brown hair was staring down at her with a sympathetic expression.

"Good evening," he announced as Ginny sat up. She had been lying on a small cot against a plain wall of dark stone. Looking around the room, she found little other decoration. Two torches hung from opposite walls, filling the room with dim yet warm light. Not far away from her was a simple table holding a few bottles and surrounded by chairs. One of them was turned out, with another that looked to have been turned into a makeshift ottoman.

"Where am I?" she asked warily.

"You're at the Ministry of Magic," the man replied softly. "You were stunned, in case you didn't remember. I didn't really get the full story. They said it was for your own good, but they say that a lot."

"They?"

"The other Aurors," he replied with a wave toward an arched doorway. "I think they say that when they really mean that they did it because they wanted to actually hurt you but they were afraid of what might happen if anyone found out they did it on purpose."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. The familiarity in his voice made her suspicious. "The _other_ Aurors," she repeated. "So that means that you're—"

"An Auror, yes," he finished with a nod, "by title, at least. In practice I think a better name might be 'clerk' or 'errand boy' but I'm told this is expected for someone who's only been an Auror for two years. My name is Bradley Richards. I've already heard quite a bit about you."

Carefully standing up, Ginny took a few stiff steps. "Why am I here?" she asked. "Why not St. Mungo's?"

Richards smiled and shrugged. "You're not hurt," he told her, "not really. You've only been stunned. At your age, there's practically no danger. The worst you'll get out of the whole ordeal is a bit of disorientation for a bit. Speaking of which," he said walking over to a chair, "you should probably sit for a bit longer before you try walking around."

Having nothing else to do, Ginny did as he suggested and the young Auror dropped into the other chair, reclined and put his feet up on the seat of a third chair. With casual boredom, he scratched out a few words onto a piece of parchment on the table, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"What was that?" Ginny asked.

He rolled his eyes. "That was the order from Gawain —er, Mr. Robards, the Head Auror— finally allowing me to wake you up. I think they were trying to decide if it would be better for you to wake up here or someplace more familiar."

"So... why did they decide to do it here?"

"Because a lot of us thought it was a little insulting to keep you stunned and cart you about like some sort of unwanted shipment." His voice contained a hint of disdain. "You're a Ministry employee. You deserve to be treated with a little more respect."

Something still didn't add up to Ginny. For all the man's sympathy, she was still alone in a small room without any of her friends. "Where is everyone else?" she found herself asking aloud.

"Everyone?" he repeated, taken a little off-guard. "Well, they're here, too," he said. "Do you mean your friends? Granger and Potter and your brother?"

Ginny nodded.

"Right," he said with a bitter snort. "I, er... Well, I'd guess they're nearby. I can't really tell you, though."

"Why not?"

Again, his response was formal, but covering obvious annoyance. "Take a look around, Miss Weasley," he said, sweeping his arm toward the empty walls. "Do you think this is my office? This note—" he said, pulling the crumpled parchment from his pocket "—is the most information I've heard since you showed up." He looked at it for a second before stuffing it back into his robes and shaking his head. "Two sentences. The best I can really tell you is that everyone is in good condition. You'd think if anyone was seriously injured I might have gotten three sentences."

"Where is Harry? Can I see him?"

"As I said," he began, "I assume Mr. Potter is nearby —probably just down the corridor, but it doesn't really matter. You can't see him."

Ginny stiffened in her seat. "Why not?" she asked suspiciously.

"_For your own safety,_" he replied in a low voice as if mocking someone else. "From the sound of it, they were worried that you might try running away. I don't really understand what that means. You work here, after all. It's not called 'running away', it's called 'going home'." Reaching for one of the bottles, he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "I'll admit that I'm a little curious about what might have given them that idea. At the very least, it gives us something to talk about. I'm afraid it might be a while. Pumpkin juice?" he added, offering a glass to her.

She accepted. "Why can't I leave? Why do we have to wait?"

The man finished pouring the glass. "Well, I don't think it's any secret that some very troubling things happened in Paris. The Minister called a meeting to figure out just what is going to happen next and insisted on hearing what Mr. Potter had to say."

"The Minister of Magic wants to talk to Harry?" she remarked. "What does he want to know?

"He probably wants to figure out why this happened."

Ginny assumed that when they left Paris, everything would have stopped, but when the returned, the pub seemed to be in even worse shape. "So do I," she asked with real curiosity.

"I figured you'd already know. You were there with him, weren't you?" Richards asked. "What happened?"

Ginny paused. "You... don't know?"

He collapsed into his chair. "Dark wizards are running around Paris and look where I am! Locked in a room with a Ministry employee who hasn't done anything wrong. They don't even tell me where they're going for lunch. At least they gave me something to do. I figure, whatever happened, it must have been pretty dangerous."

"Why are you so interested?"

"Because there's nothing else to be interested in," he said a little more firmly. "I joined the Aurors to fight dark wizards. Whatever happened in Paris, dark wizards were involved and you were there. If I have to be stuck here, I figure I might as well _hear_ about what everyone else is up to. How did you and Harry even know what was going to happen? Does he have spies or something?"

"No, he—" Ginny began, but paused. Something didn't feel right.

"Come on, Miss Weasley," he pleaded. "This is going to be a long night if we just sit here saying nothing to each other."

"We could talk about the Quidditch World Cup," she suggested.

"I've never liked Quidditch," he replied. "If I did I'd be working in some other department. I'm an Auror. I'm looking for something a little more exciting." He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "I always thought Harry would be an Auror. I bet it was pretty amazing to watch him, wasn't it? What sorts of spells was he using? I bet they were pretty powerful."

Ginny froze. She looked at the walls surrounding her again. She was in the Ministry, locked in a room unlike any that she'd seen before. She couldn't leave and Richards wouldn't stop pressing her for information. The realization finally managed to work past the haziness in her mind.

She was being interrogated.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked. "Why are you asking me?"

Richards sat back. "You're the only one here. I don't really have any other options."

"Yes, I think that's it," Ginny agreed. "You don't have any other option. You're asking me because Harry wasn't willing to talk about it either." She scowled at him. "He wasn't cooperating so you woke me up and started acting like my friend, hoping I'd slip and tell you what he refuses to."

Within seconds, the Auror's demeanor changed. He dropped his feet off the chair and glared at Ginny. "If neither of you did anything wrong, why are you so afraid of telling us what you did?"

"I don't trust you," she replied.

"I don't need you to trust me," he replied, "I need you to answer my questions before you and your friends are thrown in Azkaban."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," she said firmly. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"If you don't want to talk about the attack, why don't we talk about something else," he suggested. "Why don't we talk about the dead wizard under _Le Singe Ivre_? The one that was last seen leading an attractive, red-haired witch down into the cellars."

* * *

"Ignoring the part Mr. Kantos supposedly played in convincing you to go to Paris," Gawain Robards continued, "can you tell us what happened there after you arrived?"

Harry looked at Robards, Scrimgeour and then Reynard, but said nothing.

"You went to a pub, yes?" Robards offered. When Harry still didn't speak, Reynard finally spoke up.

"Potter arrived at _Le Singe Ivre_ approximately half an hour after the completion of the match," he reported. "Miss Weasley arrived around the same time and they were met by Mr. Kantos. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger arrived some time later."

"Is that true, Mr. Potter?" Robards asked.

Harry nodded. Denying it would only make him look even more untrustworthy.

"And what happened after that?"

Harry's mind worked quickly to try and construct a suitably truthful explanation. "Josef and I found a table where we could talk privately," he began. "He told them that he suspected an attack, but never said why."

"Why not?" countered Robards. "How long after that did the attack start?"

"Er... I don't really know," Harry replied truthfully.

"Why not?" Robards prompted again. "You were in the pub. It is clear that the attack began there. You've already admitted that the attack had not begun when you sat down and it had most definitely happened when we found you there. You must have noticed _something_ that felt like a dark wizard attack.

"I... left," Harry answered haltingly.

Robards and Reynard exchanged concerned glances. The Minister turned away and rubbed his temples.

"Where did you go, Harry?" Robards asked softly. "Can you tell us?" Harry took a moment to try and think of just how to answer. "Harry," the Auror interrupted, "I think it is fair to tell you that we have spoken with a number of people who were at the pub at the same time that you were."

The room fell into a tense silence as Harry stared at Robards and Reynard. How much did they know?

"One of the barmaids managed to slip out the back door," began Robards. "She escaped on a broom and made it to the French Ministry before it was attacked. She said that she remembered seeing one of the younger barkeeps talking with an attractive redheaded witch. She remembered it because she had assumed that the witch was accompanying Mr. Kantos. She said that the witch and the barkeep were getting pretty friendly. Does that sound familiar?"

"Yes," Harry answered warily. He wondered why this interested Robards so much.

"Do you remember the barkeep leading her off to the cellar door?" the Auror continued? "The barmaid said that she saw Kantos and his dark-haired friend racing after them as they slipped through the door. She thought this friend of his looked rather upset. Five minutes later, a wizard burst out of the cellar and began murdering witches and wizards indiscriminately and in peculiar and troubling ways."

He paused, obviously waiting for some reaction from Harry. "No one got a very good look at the wizard. Well, a few did, but they all died horrible deaths. Of the ones that lived, most of them only got brief glimpses as they ran for their lives, but all of their descriptions included the same three things: dark hair, a dark cloak, and bright green eyes."

"It wasn't me," Harry declared as he suddenly understood what was happening.

"It wasn't you? You're certain of that?" asked Robards.

Harry jumped to his feet. "Yes, I'm certain of that!"

"Then tell us what happened in the cellar," Robards replied firmly. "Miss Weasley went into the cellar with a handsome, young wizard and you were racing after them. You went down in the cellar and you must have come back up."

"I did, _later_," insisted Harry. "The wizard who attacked those people is something —someone— else."

"Someone else?" Reynard snorted. "There just happened to be another dark-haired wizard with bright green eyes in the cellar at that moment?

"Perhaps," Robards began, speaking in a slow, cautious voice, "you simply don't remember coming back up from the cellar. I don't know much about you and Miss Weasley, but you do seem to have feelings for her. Maybe you saw something that upset you. When wizards become exceptionally angry or upset, strange things can happen. It isn't impossible that someone in such distress could... do things without truly knowing what they were doing. They... wouldn't really be themselves any more."

"No," Harry said, sitting down again. "That's not what happened. That's not it at all." He forced himself to calm down. He saw how things looked now. They thought he had gone insane. He had to try to control himself as much as possible or they'd never believe anything he'd say.

"Harry," interrupted Harrington. "It's time. You need to tell them."

"Tell us what?" snapped Reynard. "What have you been hiding? What haven't you told us?"

Harrington ignored him. "Harry, over a hundred people are dead in Paris. You've done your best. You need help. There is no other way. You need to tell them."

The other wizards stared intently at Harry, waiting. Harry ignored Reynard and Robards and looked only at Scrimgeour. He was the only one who might still believe him.

"There is a new dark wizard," Harry announced. "I have been chasing him since December. I have no doubt that he did this to try and manipulate you into blaming me for the attack." Scrimgeour was hesitant to believe him.

"He's telling the truth," Harrington said. "This wizard exists. I've seen the reports. It all makes sense. I've even seen what this wizard is capable of. He was responsible for the disease which claimed those students at Hogwarts and which nearly killed Evelyn Sibley."

"Well, that's not— No one ever proved that—" stammered the Minister. "A new dark lord?" he asked, adopting a deeply troubled expression. "But— Who is it?"

"I don't know if it's even a person," Harry said heavily. "It's a... a force of some kind. It's all the worst parts of a wizard, a creature, and a ghost. You can't kill it and we haven't found a way to stop it."

The Minister shook his head and began pacing. "That's not possible. You're exaggerating. You've got memories of... of Voldemort in your brain. If there was a new dark lord, we'd have heard about it. These things are... well, they aren't the sort of thing that people just ignore. Where did this supposed dark lord come from, then?"

"He came from the behind the Veils."

"The Veils?" Reynard asked, sounding a little less convinced that Harry was lying. "How do you know that? How can you be certain?"

Harry sat back with a sober expression. "I know... because I was there when he escaped."

* * *

"Is there a problem?" the Auror asked Ginny, acting as though he had not noticed the piercing stare he was giving her. "Would you rather talk about why Mr. Potter wanted to go to Paris?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"The red-haired witch with the barkeep was you, wasn't it, Miss Weasley?" She glared at him as if he'd betrayed her, but he was unaffected. "Feel free to lie, if you like," he offered. "It doesn't really matter. I already know the truth."

Anger began to boil in Ginny's chest. She hated being treated with such condescension. "It was me," she declared firmly, if only out of the desire to be contrary.

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

"Ah," he said, feigning surprise. "I didn't think you'd remember, considering how intoxicated you must have been. It's a bit of a shock that you remember anything at all. It all must have been a haze."

"I wasn't drunk," Ginny heard herself snap back at him. She chastised herself an instant later for doing just as he wanted her.

"So you weren't drunk," he said thoughtfully. "I think that's even more interesting. It's quite odd behavior, you know? Most women wouldn't be willing to chat up some bloke with their boyfriend looking on. They say there's no accounting for taste, but I think I know enough about Mr. Potter to say that's not the sort of thing he likes the taste of."

Ginny refused to say anything.

"Not feeling so friendly anymore, then?" Richards said in a sharp tone. "Cutting a little close to the truth, am I?" He leaned forward and looked directly at Ginny. "Why did you do it? Why did you go over to the barkeep? Was it boredom? Curiosity? Had he said something that upset you? Was it revenge? Or some sort of game?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You had to know what would happen," he continued. "You followed the poor bastard down into the cellar and Mr. Potter followed you. All three of you knew very well what young witches and wizards do in dark, private places, and it doesn't take much thought at all to understand why that unlucky bloke had his hands removed. Mr. Potter saw the two of you and he... got angry. You'd expected that, obviously, but you didn't expect it to go so far. Harry's a powerful wizard and he hasn't been showing a lot of control lately. You probably tried to stop him, didn't you?" he asked. "What you did with that unfortunate young man was bad, but no one can blame you for his death and no one can blame you for not stopping Mr. Potter."

"No," Ginny blurted out. "Harry didn't kill him. I— I stunned him before Harry even found me."

The Auror gave her a disappointed look. "Now, Miss Weasley," he began, "I thought we had been doing so well. No one will blame you so long as you're honest."

"It wasn't Harry," she insisted. "It was— er— someone else."

"Someone else?" Richards repeated dubiously. "There was someone else in the cellar who decided to kill a wizard they probably didn't even know?"

Ginny sat and glowered at him silently. She already knew that she couldn't tell him the truth and even if she could, it would sound even less believable than any explanation she might cook up.

"Who, then?" he pressed her. "Who else was in the cellar? What other wizard would have the power, ability, training and rage needed to cleanly sever a man's arms at the wrists?"

As he stared at her waiting for a response, a sharp knock came from the door. Richards frowned and stood up. "I'll give you a moment to come up with an answer. If you're not going to tell the truth, you might at least make it something interesting." He walked to the door and responded with another pair of knocks. The door opened and he slipped out, leaving Ginny quite alone.

A minute of silence passed and Ginny still didn't know what to do. Perhaps she could try the old trick of declaring her status as a Liaison to Romania and hope that Josef might be able to find some way to help her out. Beyond that, she was at a complete loss.

The door opened again and Richards stepped in. "Alright Ginny," he said calmly as he sat back down across from her. "Perhaps you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot. Let us not talk about Harry. You are quite loyal to him, and I can respect that. I know you would _never_ betray him or anyone else you care about. We will talk about you, instead. Surely you cannot be worried about betraying yourself."

Again, Ginny kept her silence. His new demeanor wasn't any more comforting.

"There was a body found in the cellar under the pub," he said in a voice that sounded almost cheerful. "You know the one I am talking about?"

Ginny found herself caught off-guard. "You mean the barkeep who led me down there?" she asked, trying to figure out just what Richards was trying to ask.

"So you admit that you followed him into the cellar?"

Ginny's confusion grew. "I admitted it just two minutes ago."

"That is a _yes_?"

"Yes," she replied in an annoyed tone.

The Auror sighed as if trying to remain calm. "Of the two of you, who was the one who initiated this... course of action."

Ginny stared up at the man, wondering why he cared or why anyone would. Still unwilling to say too much, she decided to avoid the question a little. "He was the one who suggested we go into the cellar."

The Auror watched her with a blank face as if waiting for her to say something more. After a few uncomfortable moments, he frowned at her and stood up. "He suggested the cellar, did he? And why would he do that? No one else was down there. What reason would he have for bringing you down there? What did you say to him that made him suggest it?"

"I was just being friendly," she said.

With two swift strides, the Auror returned to the table and slammed his fist down just inches from Ginny's arm. "You are _lying_," he spat. "A _friend_ does not ask you to follow him into a dark, private cellar. What did you say to him?"

Ginny found herself recoiling from his sudden outburst. "I can't remember."

"_Liar,_" he hissed as he began pacing across the room. "You followed him down to the cellar, and your friends followed you. I think you _wanted_ him to suggest the two of you go down into the cellar. I think you _knew_ what it would take to make him think of that and you used that to get him to do exactly what you wanted. You used him. You _betrayed_ him." He leaned close to Ginny, and snarled: "Lie to me again, _Ginny_! Tell me you had no part in it! Tell me that you are completely innocent!"

Ginny pushed her chair away from the table to put more space between her and the Auror. "I encouraged him, alright?" she blurted out angrily. "I asked him if he knew of any place that might be a bit more private."

Leaning over the table, he stared into Ginny's eyes. "Did you kiss him?"

Ginny blinked in surprise. "What— Why does that matter?"

"_Did you kiss him?_" the Auror repeated in a sharper tone.

"No."

"Did he kiss you?"

"No."

"Did he try touch you or—"

"_No,_" Ginny answered immediately, her outrage increasing with each question.

The Auror was unmoved. "His robes were unbuttoned. Who unbuttoned them?"

"He did."

"What about your robes?" he pressed her. "Who unbuttoned those?"

"No one!" she snapped

"Why not?" he growled, leaning close to her again. "Why choose that moment to become chaste and virtuous? Was he not up to your standards? Was he not rich enough? Not famous enough? Was his family not influential enough? Or did you simply lose your courage? Were you just too disgusted by the thought of letting yourself be degraded by him?"

"No, it wasn't like that—" she tried to argue. "I would never—"

"Of course you would not, but certainly he hoped you would. He would be foolish to turn you away," the Auror replied. "A young man like that —poor and common— getting the attentions of an intoxicating woman like you would be a fool to walk away. Something stopped him, something a little more powerful than a small, half-dressed woman."

Ginny didn't know what to say. Was he trying to get her to say that she was the one who had attacked the poor wizard?

"Harry found you with him, did he?" the Auror asked in a controlled voice. "He saw you go down into the cellar. He followed you and his jealousy consumed him. Enraged by the sight of this worthless peasant embracing the woman he had claimed as his own, he murdered him, cutting off the wretch's treasonous hands."

"No," Ginny replied, shocked and disgusted by the man's accusation. "I already told you. It was me," she admitted. "I stunned him. He was unconscious before Harry arrived, but he wasn't dead. We dragged him into the next room. He was still alive when we left."

"And you are certain Harry did not return to the scene?" the Auror replied icily.

"Yes."

"He never left your side? Not even for a minute?" he continued, stalking toward her slowly.

"No," she insisted.

"You never lost sight of him?" he continued, "You were there with him when he found the body?"

A cold chill ran up Ginny's spine. She hadn't been there. Harry had run ahead. It had taken her some time to catch up. She knew Harry hadn't killed the man, but she realized that only Josef could prove that and it was unlikely that anyone would be quick to believe him. "Yes," she lied quickly. "I was there with him."

His piercing gaze gave Ginny the uneasy feeling that he knew she was lying. "I see," he replied in a low rumble. "How many witches and wizards did Harry kill after you found the body _together?_"

"None."

"None at all? You are certain of that?" the wizard asked. "You remained by his side the entire time? You, a simple Ministry representative, managed to keep up with a wizard trained in battling numerous opponents?"

"He didn't kill anyone," she insisted. "He's not like that."

"Is that true?" the Auror replied with a soft laugh. "He is not like that, is he? Tell me, Ginny," he demanded, "has Harry ever lied to you?"

Ginny didn't know how to respond. It was the sort of leading question which had no good answers. Even without all of the deception behind his history with the Brotherhood, Ginny was not so naive to think that Harry had never lied to her, and no one would ever believe her if she said she did. Yet, admitting this was precisely what the Auror wanted. Choosing to avoid either option, she stared back at him in defiant silence.

"You know he has," he purred. "He let you think he was dead. He refused to tell you about the Brotherhood. He kept Grigore's intentions from you. He even hid the part he played in the death of your own brother." This earned him a sharp glare from Ginny, but it only encouraged him. "Had you forgotten about that? Has it been so long since he traded your brother's life for his? How long had he known the peril Charlie was in? How long had he ignored it? How long might he have kept the truth from you, had Grigore not forced his hand?"

Ginny kept her eyes on the table, refusing to speak or even look at her interrogator. She wanted to stand up and scream. She wanted to hex him until he told her how he had found out about Charlie, but she didn't. It became increasingly obvious that he was trying to get her angry enough that she might say —or do— something she didn't want to.

"What other betrayals might he be hiding?" he continued in a softer voice. "What other horrible secrets might be lurking in his past? What crimes has he committed?" Failing to get any reaction from her, he stood up and tried a new angle.

"You were apart for more than a year. Even now, you must spend quite a bit of time apart. Can you tell me with honesty that you believe that he has not pursued another woman for romance, however short a period that might be? How many women do you think it might be? How many of these illicit meetings have occurred since you found out that he was still alive."

"No," she answered forcefully. "He'd never do that."

A crooked smile spread across the Auror's face. "I find your loyalty amusing. If you refuse to listen to me, perhaps there is someone else you might listen to." Turning his back on her, he quietly walked out of the room, locking the door after it closed. Ginny sat back in her chair, wondering just what she was in the middle of.

* * *

"So, you claim that there was a dark lord hiding in a copy of the Veil Room which happened to be in Romania?"

"No," Harry replied in frustration. "Not a copy. There are many Veil Rooms. They're all similar, but they're all different. They seem to be all over the place. There was one in Paris, too. It was in the cellars under the pub."

Reynard sat back in his chair. "We found nothing like that in the cellars. There was a large, circular chamber, but there was no Veil or arch or any such thing. There were three wizards, though, all gruesomely murdered."

"I didn't do that," Harry insisted yet again. "I've been trying to stop him for months. You have to listen to me."

"We'd really like to, Harry," Scrimgeour said, failing to hide the doubt in his voice. "You must admit this is a little hard to accept with absolutely nothing to support your story."

"You just haven't been paying attention," Harry shot back. "He's been twisting wizard's minds through the Veil for longer than anyone could know. He's behind the attacks at Cornwall and Romania, and Carthage and now Paris. You need to open your eyes. He's been here all this time."

* * *

The echoing _click_ of the door lock woke Ginny from her thoughts. A new figure entered the room —a woman, guessing by height and stature— wearing a battered cloak that Ginny recognized as one of the Shield Cloaks so common with Ministry workers. She groaned inwardly, wondering if they thought she would somehow be more willing to talk to another woman.

A moment later, the woman pulled back the hood of her cloak, making Ginny sit up in surprise. She recognized Hermione's face immediately, though it had been some time since she'd seen her friend looking so angry. Hermione untied the cloak and tossed it aside, revealing the elegant and expensive dress robes she wore underneath it. They were made of a deep blue fabric which clung to her figure and shimmered in the dim light.

Ginny found herself struggling to speak. The surprise of seeing Hermione in the room would have been enough, but to see her wearing such extravagant attire for no reason was beyond explanation.

"Why are— I don't—" she stammered as Hermione approached.

"What do you think you are doing, Ginny?" she snapped as she came to an abrupt stop. The flames from the torches reflected off her eyes, providing a stark contrast to the almost angelic glow of her pale, bare shoulders. "Do you think you are making things better? Do you think that lying is going to somehow make any of this easier?"

"I didn't lie," Ginny replied quickly, before she had a chance to remember whether she really had or not.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Of course you lied. Perhaps you did not realize that it was a lie, but that does not change the truth. You need to wake up, Ginny. The world is not how you imagine it. Harry has done horrible things and the longer you hide that from yourself and others, the worse the situation gets. It is time for you to move on and show some responsibility."

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked. "Why are you here? Why are you working with _them_?"

"Why do you insist on fighting everyone?" Hermione snapped. "Do you think that it is just you and Harry against the world? Is that what you have told yourself? Well I have a surprise for you: Your loyalty to Harry is far greater than his loyalty to you." Hermione gave her a disgusted look. "Lie for him if you like. Throw yourself down to save him if it pleases you, but know that he would not do the same for you."

"Yes he would. He already has."

"Has he? Or has he simply purchased a pretty thing to play with?"

Ginny recoiled. "What is wrong with you?"

"I have opened my eyes," Hermione answered. "Harry has changed, Ginny. He's not the boy you once knew. He is deceitful and manipulative. This infatuation of yours has gone on long enough. It is time for you to start thinking of yourself because he is not."

"I'll never betray Harry!" she shouted. "How could you even suggest—"

"Why not betray him?" interrupted Hermione. "Why not? What has he done to deserve such unwavering and blind loyalty?"

"He loves me," she replied proudly, "and I love him."

"Love!" laughed Hermione. "A powerful emotion, indeed. Equally strong in the ways in which it both binds two people together and drives them apart. Yet, you believe that you are only subject to the former. I wonder if that is true. Do you believe that Harry has never betrayed you?"

"He would never—"

"Wouldn't he?" Hermione replied with raised eyebrows. "Are you so certain that he is above such common flaws? What if you were to find out that he is not the perfect creature he has always portrayed himself to be?"

"Why are you doing this?" Ginny asked, backing away from Hermione. "Why are you saying these things?"

"Why do you _refuse to answer?_" Hermione replied, stepping even closer. "You act as though the thought of Harry with anyone but you is impossible, yet look at how easily you manipulated that poor wizard in Paris. Look how easily you had him pawing at you, yet you cannot imagine that Harry is capable of the same thing. Do you believe that there are not hundreds of women who would ignore your professed love to take their chance with him? Do you think that any women, even his closest friends, are immune to such thoughts? Can you believe that he's never indulged in their fantasies, even for a moment?"

"No. I refuse to believe that."

"You are wrong, Ginny. Someday soon, you will see that."

Hermione advanced on her quickly and before she even realized what was happening, a pair of strong hands had pinned her arms to her sides. Ginny tried to pull away, but found herself trapped by the heavy table in the middle of the room. Ginny tried to free herself, but it was impossible.

"What are you—"

Her complaint was silenced immediately as Hermione darted forward and pressed her lips into Ginny's. Almost immediately she was overwhelmed by a flood of sensations. Pain shot through her entire body, paralyzing her with fear. Forcing her eyes open, she found Hermione staring at her with frightening intensity. Before she could even try to pull away, a soft hand reached up to grip the back of her head.

Thoughts and feelings flooded into her mind. She was filled with an uncontrollable, irrational anger. It was almost like a living thing, hungry and ravenous, feeding off her fear and urging her to submit. She tried to scream, but the sound only echoed within her own mind. Feelings of hatred and rage washed over her as a thousand voices cried out to her, cursing her and cheering her suffering.

Ginny tried to fight back. She tried to close off her mind, but a new feeling began seeping in. It had started in her stomach, a slow tingling like a warm summer breeze. As it traveled up her chest, it took away the worst of her pain, but it offered her no relief. Ginny grappled with her attacker, trying to find any way to stop the nauseating, loathsome feeling of pleasure which was slowly climbing up the back of her neck.

* * *

Harry's head throbbed with dull pain. Instinctively, he reached up to massage his forehead and found the skin hot and tender. His eyes opened immediately and stared at the door as if he expected the cloaked wizard to burst through at any moment.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" asked Harrington.

"He's here."

Despite their proclaimed skepticism, everyone in the room was suddenly alert.

"What exactly do you mean?" Harrington asked. "Where exactly is _here_? He's in Britain or he's outside the door?"

"He's nearby," Harry answered, wincing as he was hit with a particularly sharp stab. "I'd say he's either inside the Ministry or he will be very soon."

"All the entrances are guarded, Harry. The Aurors are on alert," Reynard explained. "No one could get into the Ministry without us knowing about it."

"I did," Harry shot back at him, without thinking.

Reynard paused and looked at Harry with curiosity. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes you did."

Harry ignored the older wizard's suspicious expression. All his thoughts were focused on just one person. "Where is Ginny?" he asked urgently.

"She's nearby and quite safe," Robards tried to assure him. "Relax, Mr. Potter."

Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. "Relax? How can you say that? You've seen what this wizard can do. He'll do that here, too. Is that what you want? If not, then you'd better let me see her."

"Mr. Potter!" gasped Scrimgeour.

Robards was sitting very still and staring at Harry. "Was that... a threat, Mr. Potter?"

It took a moment for Harry to realize what he'd said. Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he sat back in his chair. "No, you don't understand. If he knows she's here, he'll find her. He hates her. He blames her for something that happened to him. If he's here, then she's in danger."

"_If he's here,_" Reynard repeated. "You haven't given us any reason to believe that."

"I can feel it," he explained. "If you don't believe me, then ask Hermione. She can feel it, too."

"I'm afraid Miss Granger is no longer as well respected as she once was," Reynard replied. "Even if she were, it wouldn't matter. She was sent home a half hour ago."

"You have to trust me. Ginny's in danger. Just let me see her," Harry asked. "She doesn't need to see me."

"She's fine, Potter," Reynard growled. "What is it that you fear? She has been shown to be more reasonable than you are, though only slightly. Perhaps your real concern is not for her safety, but your own? Are you worried that she might be more willing to cooperate? What are you afraid she might tell us?"

Anger boiled in Harry's chest. "Just let me see her," he replied. The force behind his voice was enough to make the other wizards pause.

"Er— I don't see any harm in—" the Minister stammered.

"I do," Reynard interrupted. "Potter is a powerful wizard. We have no idea what he's capable of. Look how easily he has almost bent us to his will. I'll not have him interfere with Miss Weasley as well. He stays here.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," agreed Robards. "He's right. Ginny is fine. She's with a pair of Aurors. Nothing can happen to her."

"Please," Harry demanded, "if you won't let me see her, then _send someone else._"

Before anyone could speak, Harrington had already stood up. "I'll send Cordelia to look in on her," he offered. Reynard gave him a sour look, but didn't try to stop him. Robards and Scrimgeour looked relieved. After speaking to the Aurors outside the door for a second, Harrington returned and announced that everything was arranged.

The news did little to calm the throbbing in Harry's forehead.

* * *

After a moment of struggling, Ginny managed to free her arms and shove herself away from Hermione —though she no longer believed the witch who had just assaulted her was really her friend. The feeling that had run through her while she was being kissed was a feeling she recognized all too well. She couldn't forget the horrible revulsion she felt whenever the cloaked wizard had touched her, even in her dreams.

Tearing herself away from her attacker, she bolted for the door. The Auror had left easily enough. If she was fast enough, she could slip out the door and find help before she would be stopped. She just hoped that she'd live to see how well it worked.

With her hand just inches from the doorknob, it disappeared and took the rest of the door with it. Ginny hit the solid wall and stumbled backward. A pair of vise-like hands caught her and tossed her back toward the table in the center of the room.

"Why do you still love him?" a voice roared behind her. She spun around in time to see a dark-haired wizard with blazing green eyes slipping the black cloak back over his shoulders. "Why, after all he has done, after all the crimes he has committed, do you still refuse to turn your back on him? What can you be waiting for? What have I done that he has not?"

"You're nothing like him," she shouted back.

He let out a fierce roar and rushed toward her. She tried to dodge him, but he veered with her at the last moment and threw her backward across the table. Ginny felt herself slide across the surface and come to an abrupt stop as sharp pain shot through her shoulder.

"Perhaps that is why you still refuse to listen to me," he snarled as he stared down into her face. "Perhaps I simply needed to change my tactics. Shall we see what happens when I try to act more like your beloved Harry?"

Ginny's body tightened in panic as she realized what he meant. It was too late, though. Her wrist was already bound to the table by a thick dragon hide strap. She reached for it with her free hand, but the cloaked wizard caught it and pinned it to the other side of the table. Ginny let out a muffled shriek as she felt a second strap pull tight around her wrist.

"Bastard," she spat at him. With all her strength she swung her foot up toward his face. He merely caught it and forced it back onto the table where yet another strap appeared to tie it down. It took him only seconds to restrain her last limb. Ginny hoped that might be the worst of it, but all hope was shattered as he reached to the collar of her robes and ripped out the first button.

"Don't do this," she said as sharply as she could manage. "If you think this is going to make me more willing to help you, then—"

"I have no need for your help," he droned as he continued ripping open her robes with icy determination. "This is not about me at all. This is about you. I have tried to reason with you. I have tried to show you that I am reasonable. Everything I say, every piece of advice, every offer of aid or truce is cast aside without a second thought. Well, this method seemed to work for Harry; perhaps it is time that I gave it a try."

"Is this all you know?" Ginny asked, panic creeping into her voice as cold air passed over her stomach. "Everything you do is filled with hatred and malice. How could anyone not want to imprison you? You're a monster."

He ignored her. "Do I have your attention now, Ginny? Will you trust me and do as I tell you?" he asked after ripping off the last button and throwing open her robes. "Where is the Jewel? Is it here? Does that fool Reynard have it? Did your Ministry find it and lock it away? Now is not the time to lie. I have no desire to resort to anything... cruel. I am certain Harry would be more than willing to trade the Jewel for your safety."

"He doesn't have it!" cried Ginny.

"I already know that," he replied smoothly. "If Harry had it, he would have tried to use it. He does not even know where it is, but I think you might. Tell me, and I promise you that you will eventually learn to appreciate me."

Ginny tugged at her restraints again, but it was no use. "I don't know!" she shouted.

"You will, I assure you," he replied softly. "Someday you will, and when you do, remember my promise. Defy me, betray me again and I will subject you to a fate worse than anything that can be described in your feeble language and Harry..." he continued, "Harry will know that all the pain he suffers will be because of your refusal to help him. Trust this, Ginny. If you believe nothing else I say, trust me when I say that this does not have to happen. You _will_ find the Jewel, and you _will_ give it to me for that is the price I have placed on Harry's life."

The cloaked wizard leaned forward and ran a finger across Ginny's collarbone, making her stomach clench in revulsion. Just as she thought she was going to be sick, a sharp knock echoed through the room. The cloaked wizard drew his hand away, and both of them turned to look to the place where the door had once stood. The next knock was louder, prompting the wizard to leave Ginny's side and slowly approach the wall.

"Open this door!" a woman's muffled voice shouted. When nothing happened, the knocking was replaced by a firm pounding. "By order of the Minister of Magic, I demand you open this door now!"

Ginny saw the cloaked wizard's eyes flicker at the anger in the voice and he sprung into action. Ginny tried to call out a warning, but with a wave of his hand, the wizard silenced her. With another wave the door reappeared and began trembling on its hinges. After taking position in a corner behind the door, he reached out to tap the door gently and the lock made a soft _click_.

The door opened immediately, letting a beam of light cut through the dim room. Standing in the middle of the doorway, Ginny saw Cordelia Reading and tried in vain to warn her.

"Ginny!" she cried. "What in bloody hell have they done?" She strode forward, slamming the door behind her. "This isn't right," she growled. "This is not the way Aurors are supposed to work. The Minister will hear of this, I promise you, but first, let's get you up and into fresh clothes."

Ginny tried to call out. She tried to warn Mrs. Reading, but no sound came from her throat. Silently, the cloaked wizard removed the door again and stalked forward, while Mrs. Reading aimed her wand at the nearest strap. As he inched closer, Ginny stared at him in horror, fearing what was coming.

Her terrified expression said more than words could have, and with the cloaked wizard just inches away, she suddenly understood her peril. She tried to twist away, but the cloaked wizard was prepared. He delivered a quick punch to the small of her back, then followed it with a vicious kick to her knee, sending her sprawling across the floor.

Kicking her wand away with his foot, the cloaked wizard reached down, grabbed a hold of her and hauled her up onto her feet again. Her face was pale and she was breathing in short, irregular gasps. Following her eyes, Ginny found the cloaked wizard's hand clamped down hard on her left arm. Where his fingers dug into her flesh, the skin had already turned a sickening grey as veins of black began to creep up her arm.

"Wha— What are you doing?" she asked in a whisper.

"You're name," the wizard said, "it is Reading, correct? Cordelia Reading?"

Mrs. Reading didn't respond. She tugged at her arm frantically, trying to pull away from the wizard.

Jerking her arm back toward him, the cloaked wizard tried again in a louder voice. "You are Cordelia Reading, _are you not?_" She let out an agonized moan and nodded her head quickly. "And you know Ginny? You have spoken with her? She knows you well?"

"Yes, yes," she hissed, quickly.

"Do you have children?" he asked. Mrs. Reading didn't respond. She was completely preoccupied with the discoloration of her skin had already spread up her arm. The cloaked wizard shook her, and spoke more forcefully: "_Do you have a child?_"

"I— Please—" she stammered as a dark tendril began to inch up her shoulder. "Yes... yes, a daughter."

"And this daughter, she also has a name?"

"It burns," she gasped. "What are you doing? Why— Why do you want to—"

"Her name!" the wizard shouted. "What is your daughter's name?"

"H-Helen—" she answered hesitantly, then stared at the wizard with a pleading look. "She's only eight years old, please don't—"

"You have nothing to worry about," the wizard interrupted her, "so long as you trust Ginny." The blackness was beginning to spread faster. Her shoulder was already a dark grey and the leading edge was just beginning to creep up her neck.

"There is a trinket I have been searching for," he began to explain. "Ginny knows this and eventually she will find it. It has little value to her and poses no threat. If she gives this thing to me, then Helen will be in no danger at all. If she refuses," he said, his voice taking on a cold edge, "then I am afraid that Helen may be forced to suffer cruelly."

"No, please don't do this, She's just a child she—"

"I do not want this any more than you do," he insisted. "I will do everything I can to see that young Helen lives the life she deserves. I fear, however, that Ginny may not be so dedicated. She refuses to think of anyone but herself. She needs to see how her decisions affect others, and that is why you must suffer. Understand that I take no pleasure in ending your life."

Mrs. Reading paled as the blackness quickly spread up across the left half of her face. "What are you?" she gasped.

"I wish I knew," he replied in a soft voice. "I could have been called a wizard once. There are no words for what I have become. I am beyond understanding, beyond life and death, beyond nature and knowledge. I am an abomination, a creation of the witch you see bound to that table."

The blackness didn't slow down. As it passed up onto her forehead, Ginny watched as the white's of Mrs. Reading's eyes dulled, then began to fill with a solid, inky black. Her mouth opened in a deep gasp, revealing a set of black teeth with a pair of small fangs.

Her head fell back and she let out a piercing, tortured wail, which left Ginny's ears ringing. After a moment, the scream ended abruptly. Looking back over at Mrs. Reading, Ginny found her stiff and trembling. Her body shuddered and she let out a short cough, followed by a wet gurgle as a stream of thick, black liquid dripped from her mouth. She gasped one last time, then her body went completely limp. The cloaked wizard released her arm and she collapsed onto the floor in a lifeless heap.

* * *

"What was that?" Scrimgeour asked in a quavering voice.

The horrible scream they all heard was cut short, leaving the room in uncomfortable silence.

"Where is Ginny?" Harry shouted. Reynard was still seated, but Gawain Robards and Harrington had leaped from their chairs as quickly as Harry had.

"She's just down the corridor," Robards replied. If he was still skeptical of Harry's warnings, he didn't let the thoughts slow him down at all. In two bounding steps he was at the door, pounding on it to be opened immediately. Seconds later, a pair of alarmed Aurors wrenched it open and looked toward Robards for orders.

Harry and Harrington were right behind him, leaving Reynard and the Minister behind in their rush to find out what was happening. The dim stone corridor outside the room was nearly empty, though Harry could hear shouts and the sounds of booted feet running to his right.

"Where is Ginny?" Harry asked again.

"Just down there," Robards replied, pointing in the direction opposite the shouts they could hear. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a familiar looking wand. "Here," he said, offering the wand to Harry, "I'll feel a lot better if you've got this."

"Stop!" an Auror shouted from around a nearby corner. "You're not allowed back there!"

Robards and Harry turned and saw shadows stretching around the corner. Taking position against the walls, they crouched and took aim as a cloaked man rounded the corner. Robards tried to stun him, but the hex bounced off the cloak. The man raised his arm and fired off his response:

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Even as Robards' wand jumped into the air, Harry realized that he recognized the voice. It was Josef and he recognized Harry just as quickly. He plucked Robards' wand from the air and came to a halt just outside the room.

"Where is Ginny, Harry?" he barked as he handed Robards' wand back to him.

Robards only needed to raise his arm to point. The three of them dashed off, with Reynard, the Minister and a pair of Aurors in pursuit. Further down the corridor, they found a small alcove with a locked door. Robards had a key, but nothing he did could make it unlock the door. Reynard tried another key as Josef demanded that they step aside so he could blast the thing open. After Reynard failed and the Aurors exhausted all other attempts, they finally did as Josef commanded.

His first attempt yielded no results at all and the second managed to damage the corridor ceiling more than the door itself. He raised his wand for another attempt, but stopped himself. "Harry, you need to do it," he announced as he stepped aside. "The charm on the door is too strong. I can't break it. Only you can."

"But— I don't— What would I—" Harry stammered. "Why me?"

Josef stared into his eyes. "Ginny is in there, Harry," he said in a low voice. "She's in there with _him_. Don't tell me that you can't do it or that you don't know how. We both know you can. Do it, _now_."

Harry raised his wand and concentrated on the door. He focused all of his will on wrenching the heavy wood from its frame. He said nothing and kept his wand completely still. Slowly, both the door and his wand began to glow with a strange yellow light. The door shuddered, but remained in place.

"Harry," growled Josef, "she won't give in to him. You know she won't. If we don't get in soon, he's going to _kill_ her."

A chill ran down Harry's spine. His heart began pounding, filling his ears with the rhythmic beat as images flashed through his mind: Dobby's body lying on the street, the old guard in the Atrium as he struggled to defy Harry's commands, and finally the look of mindless abandon on Hermione's face as her robes were torn from her body. The yellow glow of his wand began to fade.

"What do you fear, Harry?" Josef spurred him. "Whatever it is, that's what he'll do to her. He'll torture her, Harry, and he'll say it's _your_ fault."

Harry felt a burst of pain from his scar, as if it were being branded with hot iron. Something inside him let go and he felt power surge through him. His wand blazed with a golden-white light and the door was wrenched off its hinges and pulled across the corridor, where it shattered against the stone wall. The floor and walls of the alcove were shaken and shattered, but they remained solid.

Josef was the first to dash into the room. Harry and Robards followed quickly behind him. As they burst in, they saw the cloaked wizard standing in the far corner, smiling maliciously. A second doorway could be seen behind him. Just as Reynard and the Minister stepped into the room, he opened the door and slipped through. Harry leaped over the body on the floor and ran after him, but the instant the door shut, it disappeared completely, leaving only a flat expanse of featureless stone.

"Sound the alarm!" Reynard commanded the Aurors. "Block the Atrium! Don't let him escape!"

"No!" Harry shouted, urgently. "Empty the Atrium! Let him escape. Close off the Death Room. He's here for the Veil. He wants to destroy it."

Panic filled Reynard's eyes at this news and he quickly ordered the Aurors to do as Harry said, then ran off, no doubt to make certain it was done. Robards was torn for a moment, uncertain if he should stay or help Reynard. With a brief nod toward Harry and Josef, he turned and ran off as well.

Scrimgeour stood near the door while Harrington crouched down next to the body of Mrs. Reading. A large pool of blackened blood surrounded her and half her body was grey and discolored, but her eyes had returned to their previous color. Leaning forward, Harrington reached out to investigate the pool of blood.

"Don't touch it," warned Harry. "He killed her, I think. Considering the possibilities, she was fortunate."

"Harry," Josef called out in an unsteady voice. "Harry, I— I need some help here. I don't—"

Harry looked up and found Josef fumbling with one of the straps holding Ginny's leg to the table. Harry jumped up and raced over to her side. First, he pulled off his cloak and threw it across her chest. Then, seeing that she couldn't speak, he waved his wand, breaking the spell.

"Are you alright?" he asked quickly.

"Yes, I'm—" she began weakly. "I'm fine, I... just want to go."

"The straps won't break," Josef said. "They're dragon hide. We need a knife or a—"

"Ignore the straps—" Harry told him, "—break the table." He slashed his wand quickly and the table one of Ginny's wrists splintered, leaving the straps to hang loose while Ginny pulled her arm free. A moment later, Ginny was free and on her feet while Harry quickly mended her robes.

"Ginny will be back tomorrow to pick up her wand," Harry declared. "You'll have it waiting for her at the gate." Without waiting for a response, he wrapped one arm around Ginny and began walking her out of the room. Josef led the way with his wand drawn and ready.

"Hold on," Scrimgeour said. "What are you doing? There are still questions to be answered. Dozens of witches and wizards are dead in Paris. Where do you think you're going?"

"We're going home," Harry replied with finality. Scrimgeour blinked back at them, dumbfounded and unwilling to argue any further.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for the delay. It's been a busy month. I went to a wedding, got sick, built a new computer, got sick again and was really busy with work. However, I'm still moving forward. So, have faith. Only about 10 chapter left.


	14. Outside Rome

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 14**

**Outside Rome**

* * *

As soon as Harry arrived at home, he urged Ginny to relax in the parlor while he went into the kitchen. He didn't explain his reasons for this and Ginny didn't try to ask. Harry walked to the wardrobe by the doorway and began searching through the small collection of minor healing potions. He knew that he had something that would get rid of the bruises that were just starting to form on Ginny's wrists. Before he managed to find it, a pair of footsteps tumbled down the stairs and burst into the kitchen.

"What happened back there?" Ron asked quickly. "They put us in a room for an hour and then just told us to shove off. We feared they were going to toss you in Azkaban. Why did they let you go?" He paused and looked around the room. 'Hold on. Where's Ginny? They didn't—"

"Relax. She's in the parlor."

Ron saw Harry pull a small bottle of pink liquid from the wardrobe and eyed him suspiciously. "Isn't that a healing potion?" he asked. "Did they torture you?"

Harry had been hoping he could avoid this topic for the night, but Ron proved to be a little to observant. "It's not for me," Harry admitted. Ron opened his mouth to make some shocked response, but Harry stopped him. "Not now, Ron. Just let it go."

Hermione strode into the kitchen and Ron glanced at her and Harry in turn, seemingly unable to decide who would be more willing to admit that Harry was wrong. "The bloody Aurors hurt Ginny," he whispered to Hermione. "When dad finds out, he'll have Gawain Robard's head. They weren't allowed to do that even when Lord—"

"It wasn't the Aurors," Harry said in a low voice. Ron seemed confused, but Hermione understood immediately. With a pained expression, she turned and walked to the parlor. Harry had no idea just what she meant to do. Whatever it was, it was probably best if he just let her do it.

Still holding the potion, Harry sat down at the table with Ron and tried to explain briefly what had happened at the Ministry —or at least the part he knew about. After a just a few minutes, Hermione emerged from the parlor looking discouraged and concerned.

"Ginny wants to talk with you, Harry," she announced softly.

When Harry walked into the parlor, he found Ginny sitting in the corner with her knees pulled up against her chest. Her eyes followed him as he walked across the room and kneeled down in front of her. He offered her the potion, but she ignored him.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do?"

Her eyes slipped off of him and stared blankly at the fireplace. "He knew about the table," she murmured. "How could he know about that?"

"I— I don't know," he replied. It was something he hadn't even had a chance to think about.

"He knew that it happened," she continued. "He knew why it happened." She looked down at her wrists. "He even used dragonhide. How could anyone know that?"

It took Harry a moment to come up with an answer. "Josef," he finally said, shaking his head in disgust. "Josef knew enough. He must have taken it from Josef's memories."

Ginny's eyes remained locked on the flames. "Yeah," she mumbled, "I guess that's possible."

"Josef said that he shared thoughts with the cloaked wizard while he was in Romania. He found out about... some things he couldn't know," Harry said, feeling a pang of guilt as he quickly moved away from the memory of just what that thing had been. "I guess it would work the other way, too. It's the only real explanation."

"What if—" she interrupted, obviously ignoring him, "—what if he took the memories from... my mind. What if I'm the next one he's—"

"He's had plenty of chances to attack both of us," Harry said. "I think if he really wanted to kill us or take control of our minds, he'd have done it by now."

"I guess that means he's got something else planned for us," she whispered.

"Did he say... _why_ he was doing it?" Harry asked. He worried that the answer might not be the easiest thing for him to hear or for Ginny to remember, but he had to ask.

"He came there to punish me," she said. "There was no other point or purpose. He's filled with pain and hatred for everyone. There was no other reason—" Ginny paused and her eyes began to shift back and forth across the floor. "There was no reason except..." She fell into a deep, thoughtful silence.

"Except what?" Harry asked after his impatience became too great.

"He's looking for the Jewel of Darkness," she said in a weak voice.

Harry tried not to sound disappointed. "We already knew that."

"No," she replied firmly, "that was the reason. That was the real reason he came to the Ministry. Maybe the whole purpose of the attack at Paris was to make the Aurors respond. He wanted the chaos so he could slip in. After he... put me on the table, he asked me where the Jewel was. He thinks that I know where it is or that I'll find out soon."

Harry swallowed hard as a troubling thought entered his mind. "What if you really do know? That talisman you have, the one with the round black stone—"

"I've already thought of that," she replied dismissively. "I was wearing it at Carthage. He saw it. He even touched it. He didn't even try to take it. That must mean that he knows what the real Jewel looks like and that it doesn't look at all like that talisman."

Harry let himself drop to the floor next to her. "This is impossible," he mumbled. "I don't even know what I'm doing. We're trying to stop a wizard or— _thing_ that can only be harmed by something we don't have and can't even start to look for." He stared up at a bookshelf full of books he'd purchased within the last few months. "I've spent a fortune on the oldest and most detailed books gold can buy and not one of them even mentions anything that sounds like the Jewel of Darkness. I feel so useless. He thinks that we've got the Jewel or that we're hiding it from him, but the truth is that we're so hopelessly lost that it's amazing we're not all dead already."

"We have to find some way of stopping him," she replied flatly. "He's getting stronger and I— I don't know what he will do to—" She paused to compose herself. "I don't know what he'll do once he's finished with the Veils. Something changed inside him. He's different. He blames me for what happened to him more than ever and I don't think he'll have any problems hurting me. If he's right and I do manage to find the Jewel, then... I don't know what I'd do. How long do you think I— How much time do we have?"

"There aren't many Veils left," he replied. "It's hard to say for certain, of course, but the only ones that Valencia and I know of are the most famous ones: London, Brussels, Rome, Vienna, and Berlin. It wouldn't take him long to destroy them, especially now that he's seen how little of a chance we've got of stopping him. It doesn't seem like he's all that rushed. It could be a few weeks, maybe even a month, but it could be as quick as a few days. Either way, we still don't have the first clue of where to find the Jewel."

Ginny slowly looked up. "You're wrong. We know that he guessed it was at the Ministry," she offered.

"But it's not," Harry replied. "Josef and the rest of the Brotherhood had spies all throughout the place and none of them had any idea about the Jewel, either. Josef hadn't even heard of it."

"No, that's not it," Ginny said with a little more confidence. "Don't you see? The cloaked wizard _guessed_ that the Jewel was at the Ministry. He didn't know, either, but that's where he went looking for it. He raided the Ministry in Paris, too. There must be a reason."

Harry suddenly understood. "He's searching for it, too," he whispered. "That's how he picked the order of the Veils. He is using the destruction of the Veils to distract us from his real purpose. He's systematically searching each one, starting with the easiest and least-likely options first. Each one he destroys, he gets a little more powerful. He's been building his power, preparing for the best guarded and most likely locations."

"But he's becoming paranoid," she added. "He feared that we had it because it was taking so long to find and we were showing up at so many of the Veil locations. He must have started to worry that he'd missed it somehow or that it had been found and moved. That's hardly likely, though. Someone would have spoken about it. It couldn't have avoided centuries of historians. It must still be hidden and that means that the cloaked wizard is on the right track."

"And he thinks the Jewel is with one of the Veils," Harry added. For the first time that night, he felt a little hope. It was distant and tenuous, but it was there.

Starting tomorrow, he would begin a new search. It had been pointless trying to sort out the thousands of legends of dark jewels across Europe and Asia, but if he only needed to think about four possible cities, it suddenly became much easier.

* * *

Harry's arrival at Hogwarts the next day was not as welcome as he had hoped. Professor McGonagall met him at the front door after getting a message from the Aurors at the gate. "What is it now, Potter?" she asked in a disapproving tone. When she heard what he wanted, she looked even less happy.

"This is a school, Potter, if you haven't forgotten. I cannot let you continue to bring whatever danger is following you here."

"I only need your librarian," Harry insisted.

"You're only asking for the librarian," she corrected him. "However, my Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures professors along with a pair of the Aurors always get pulled along as well."

"I'm sorry—"

"So am I, Potter," McGonagall replied in a very authoritative tone. "I cannot agree to let you put these students in any more peril. Whatever it is you need, _there are others who would be happy to help you_."

Harry frowned to himself. He knew what she was trying to say. "I think this is something only Valencia can help me with."

"The Order of the Phoenix still exists, Harry," she whispered. "We've been waiting for you to ask for our help. Remus refuses to say anything, claiming that it should be your decision. All you need to do is contact us and we will—"

"No," Harry interrupted sharply. "No, the Order can't get involved. You don't know what you're asking. It's far better if all of them keep their distance."

"Potter," she began, sounding much like she did when she scolded students, "We want to help you. Arthur and Molly are worried sick. They understand that you want to protect them, but they—"

"No, that's not it," Harry said. "I'm not trying to protect them. I'm trying to protect Ron and Ginny and myself. If they get involved—" Harry paused and shook his head. "It's best for everyone if they stay out of this."

McGonagall frowned. "And Valencia is somehow different?"

"Yes, she is. I think she was involved in this before I was."

"I'm afraid you might be right," she replied. She let out a long sigh and reached into her pocket for a small golden key. "I cannot have you walking through the school. It would send the students into a panic. There is a door hidden behind a large willow tree under the library. It will take you to Valencia's study."

Harry took the key and walked around the edge of the castle to the large willow tree, As McGonagall had said, he found a small recessed doorway which led up a spiral staircase to a small room filled with dusty old books. There was no sign of Valencia, so he made his way to the door that led to the rest of the library. The moment he stepped out, a large, very angry wolf lunged at him.

He jumped back, slamming himself against one of the bookshelves as Vink snarled and snapped at him. Harry tried to calm the large creature down, but even the slightest movement provoked a vicious snarl from behind a set of gleaming teeth.

"Hold, Vink," Valencia called out as she stepped into view. Immediately, he backed off a few steps and ceased growling, but remained ready as if waiting for Harry to make some threatening gesture.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"We need your help again," Harry said.

"I have business of my own to attend to," she replied. "I am the librarian here." Vink still had not left his post and though he wasn't growling anymore, his teeth were bared and the hair on his neck was still raised. "I have students to attend to."

"The situation hasn't changed," he replied. "We're still looking for similar things."

"Perhaps, but I have been following my trail for some time, and you don't even know where to start looking for what you want."

Harry glanced down at Vink and tried to act like he wasn't afraid of him. "The Veils —the Death Gates," he announced. "The Jewel is probably being kept near one of them."

"What makes you believe that?"

"That's what the cloaked wizard believes," he said with a little more confidence. "He's been searching the locations around all of the Veils and he seems to know more about this than anyone else."

Valencia's eyes narrowed. "Enough, Vink," she called out, making the large wolf relax and slink away in sudden boredom. Her eyes stayed on Harry, though. "That's a fine idea, but just how are we supposed to find out which one it is?"

"There aren't that many left," Harry replied. "We don't need to look everywhere. We just need to find out as much as we can about the remaining Veils. I think that's where we'll find all our answers about the Jewel. Whatever you're looking for, if it's got anything to do with the Veils, then you'll find your answers there, too."

"What makes you think it's even possible to find what we're looking for? You saw the book," she said. "Someone doesn't want anyone to know about the Gates and they've gone through quite a bit to ensure that."

"That's the point," he replied. "If someone is trying to keep it hidden, it must mean that it's possible to figure it out. They wouldn't have to keep trying if no one has ever done it. We know the answers are with the Veils. Someone else has found them. We know someone has tried to hide what they found. There has to be a trail to follow. They can't have removed every last trace of this. Everyone makes mistakes."

Valencia stared thoughtfully at Harry for almost an entire minute. "Alright," she agreed finally. "Perhaps you are right. Maybe with a more thorough search, we might be able to put enough together to make some sense of all of it. I'll see what I can find."

* * *

A clap of thunder shook Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, making Harry nearly drop his morning toast into the coffee he'd made for himself. Within seconds, Hermione burst out of the parlor with Ron hot on her heels.

"What was that?" she asked with a pale face.

"Just thunder," he replied dismissively as he stared at a few crumbs floating in his mug. "It's nothing to worry about."

"Harry!" Ginny shouted as she leaped down the stairs. "Harry? Where are you?" She landed with a soft _thud_ and ran into the kitchen her wand drawn and still wearing her white nightgown.

"Relax," he told her. "It's just a bit of a storm. These things happen in the spring."

Ginny stared back at him. "Harry, I just looked out the window. There's not a cloud in the sky."

As Harry pulled his wand from his pocket, Josef appeared behind Ginny, carrying a small black bundle. "Put that on," he told her as he continued on his path toward Harry. As Ginny held it up, Harry recognized it as her Shield Cloak. Josef was already wearing a similar one.

Harry rushed to the front door and peered through the window. Not far away, a large oak tree was blackened and smoldering. A number of Muggles had already stepped out of their houses and stood near the tree, staring at the obvious charring and then up at the clear blue sky and back down at the tree. Then he spotted it: A darker shape hidden in the shadowy alley across the street from the old mansion. For a moment, his chest had tightened, then the shape raised its arm and a small, faint fountain of red sparks briefly lit up the alleyway. In the short glimpse he got, he spotted a pale face bordered by dark, sleek hair.

"It's Valencia," he announced. "She must have found something."

"How do we know it's really her?" Ron asked. "I mean, how do we know it's not the cloaked wizard using her?"

Harry took a moment to think. "I doubt he'd waste his time looking for us unless he had some reason to think we had the Jewel."

"Isn't that exactly what Valencia's trying to help us do?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "but there'd be no point attacking us until she succeeded." It wasn't nearly as convincing as Harry wanted it to be, but it was the only argument he could think of.

A small crowd was gathering around the tree and Valencia walked out of the alley casually, wearing a simple dress with a wide-brimmed black hat. "It looks like she wants to come in," Harry said. "Well, either she found something interesting or she's possessed and has come to kill us all. Since we haven't been able to even slow the cloaked wizard down, it doesn't seem to really matter which one it is."

"You know, that's not terribly reassuring," Ron commented as Harry opened the door and stepped outside.

None of the Muggles staring at the tree paid any attention to him, but Valencia spotted him immediately and began walking toward him with long, determined strides. She didn't say anything at all as she walked up the steps and through the front door. Before closing it behind her, Harry checked one last time to see that no one else had been watching them. After locking the door, Harry turned around and found Josef glaring at Valencia.

"That was hardly subtle," he remarked sourly.

Valencia flashed a bitter smile in response. "Well, it was better than simply knocking on the door and having you kill me for approaching without an appointment. Or would you have preferred that I fly in through an open window?"

Josef raised an eyebrow. "Was that an option?"

She ignored him and reached into a large bag slung over her shoulder. With some effort, she pulled a large book from it and held it for Harry to see. On the stone cover of the book was the title: _A History of Magic_. "I found something I need to show you, Harry," she announced.

They all walked into the kitchen and waited as Valencia placed the book on the table after giving the room a disapproving glance. She pulled a quill from her pocket and began passing it around to the others, telling them to sign the book so it would translate the writing into something they could read.

"Do we have to do it again?" Ginny asked hesitantly. "I mean— doesn't it... remember us?"

"It would, yes," Valencia replied, "but this book is not the one you signed before. This is a copy from a vault found in Vinland."

"Is there... a Veil there?" Harry asked as Ginny hastily scribbled her name and the others lined up behind her.

Valencia shook her head. "No, there is not, and that, I would guess, is why this one copy is so much more interesting than the others. It appears that without a Veil nearby, it has been mostly forgotten. It was probably left behind by the Norse when their settlements in the New World failed."

Harry's thoughts went immediately to the darkened pages of the last copy they had seen. "The chapter on Death Gates," he said excitedly, "it's all intact? It hasn't been—"

"It has," interrupted Valencia, crushing Harry's hopes. "However, the job was less thorough and it seems whoever did it wanted it to look more like an accident and less like the blatant vandalism we saw in the Barcelona copy. From the looks of it, the Barcelona copy was subjected to as many as three different attempts to hide the contents of a few specific pages. The final, and ultimately successful attempt, consisted of simply ripping them from the binding and most likely burning them. I believe this copy still has them all."

After Josef finished signing the book, Valencia began flipping through the pages looking for the chapter in question. Before she'd gotten very far, Ginny spoke up.

"Wait," she said, "Harry hasn't signed the book."

Valencia paused and looked up at Harry with a strange smile on his face. "No, you're quite right, Ginny. He hasn't." She let the book fall open where it was. "Do you need to sign the book, Harry?" Her gaze was oddly piercing and Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable. Looking down at the page, he saw the same strange, wavy script he remembered from the first time. Ginny was offering him the quill with a quizzical look.

"Well, Harry?" Valencia prompted again. "Do you need to? Can you read the writing?"

She _knew_. Harry felt a chill as he wondered what that meant. He had let himself forget about his own confusion at reading the book the first time. He had no way of finding an answer and he was certain he wouldn't like it even if he did. He was no less certain now, and part of him wanted to lie and deny it. Ginny's face fell as she saw the conflict in Harry's eyes and he knew that he couldn't lie to her.

"I can read it," he said, causing even Josef to stare at him in confusion. "How did you know?"

"It was a guess," she replied with a smile, "but one I was confident about. You read the Barcelona copy as well. I can only assume there is something about you that the book recognizes. I recognized it, too, the moment I first felt your presence." She waited a moment, and when Harry said nothing, she suggested an answer: "The script is not in English when you see it, is it?"

Harry stared down at the slowly undulating loops and suddenly recognized them for what they truly were.

"You see it written in Parseltongue, don't you?" Valencia asked. Harry nodded. "No need to be ashamed, Harry. That is precisely why I decided to bring the book to you. Your ability to read it as Parseltongue may be quite advantageous, considering how commonly Parseltongue has managed to become intertwined in this mystery. I hoped that you might be able to spot something that none of the rest of us can."

"You said you already found something," he replied. "You didn't need me to find that."

"No," she agreed, "but I'm hoping there is more than what I've found." Wasting no more time, she quickly found the chapter on Death Gates and flipped to the last page they had managed to read the first time. As soon as she had reached it, Harry spotted the reason for her visit. At the very bottom of the page was a large black circle with three smaller lines crossing it, dividing it into three equal sections.

"You recognize that symbol, don't you?"

"Bloody hell," snorted Ron. "Even _I_ recognize that symbol. It's just like the rings we used in Romania."

Valencia nodded. "Exactly. This symbol isn't terribly hard to find. I've seen it before and there hasn't been any attempt to hide or remove it, unlike this—" She turned the page slowly. The next two pages were dried and darkened quite a bit, though most of the first page was still legible. Valencia pointed to one of the lower corners of the first page where a drawing had been partially covered by a large black scorch mark. It seemed as if the text immediately below it had been the target of mysteriously selective flames.

"I've looked through more books than I could count and I can't remember seeing anything like this, and yet, if you look close, I'm sure you'll realize —just as I did— that you've seen this before."

Harry and the others squinted at the aged parchment, following faint lines of ink across the browned page. Within seconds, he heard Ginny gasp and knew the reason before he could even say it.

"The talisman," Ginny cried out. "What is it doing in there?"

"I don't know," Valencia answered, "and someone went through quite a bit of trouble to make certain that would be the case. It's clear that they didn't want anyone to know about it, but that hardly explains how it managed to find its way to Ginny." She paused to look at Ginny. "You _do_ still have it, don't you?"

Ginny nodded. "It's upstairs. I don't usually wear it."

This seemed to relieve Valencia. "My next question would be this: Where did Harry find this talisman?"

"He didn't find it," said Ginny. "It was given to me."

"It was _given_ to you?" Valencia replied skeptically. "By whom?"

"I, er— By Justinian," she answered.

Valencia rolled her eyes and buried her face in her hands. "It was a gift from a fool," she grumbled. "That gets us nowhere. He probably doesn't even remember which shady merchant he purchased it from." Looking up, Valencia frowned and began inspecting the book again. "That is unfortunate, but it is not wholly disappointing. We have it. At the very least, it is a coincidence so amazing that we should consider it a good omen. However, if it were worthless, there would be no reason to hide that fact. I think it's much more likely that it's tied to the Death Gates in a way that not even the cloaked wizard understands."

The numb emptiness of disappointment began to fill Harry's stomach. "So that's it?" he asked. "A whole week wasted? All that searching and all we've managed to find is a symbol we already recognize and a talisman we already have, but no explanations about either of them. For all the help it gave us, I wonder why it was even ripped from the first book."

The edges of Valencia's mouth curled slightly. "Perhaps one of the other six pages that were ripped out might tell us." She turned the page to reveal more darkened parchment, but this was different. The faint outline of another drawing could be seen. It was long and thin, but no details could be seen. It didn't really matter what it was, Harry knew that drawing had not been in the first book, either. "It might take a little work to figure out what exactly is on the rest of them, but I— "

"Hold on," Ron interrupted. "You mean there was more than one page missing from the book?"

"Eight, actually," Valencia replied lightly. "They're all here and they've all been severely scalded by light, though age has lightened it a little. Even if the Translation Charm has been broken, we may still learn quite a bit from any illustrations or maps that might be on the page."

"So, you don't know if there are any?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "You didn't check before coming here?"

Valencia shook her head. "There is no way to reverse the effects, but we might be able to get a brief glimpse of the page. It's not the sort of thing one can do by themselves. I can cast the spell, but I need someone else to look for me. I came here because I decided it would be best to do it in front of as many eyes as possible and, most importantly, Harry's."

"So how do we do it?" Ginny asked. "And why hasn't anyone tried before?"

"I believe they have," answered Valencia, "and that is part of the problem. Our job would be significantly easier if we were the first to try and read the pages, but I'm certain that others have come before us, including at least one powerful Parselmouth."

She pulled her wand from her pocket, held it over the book and had all of them gather around the table. "I'll need all of you to close your eyes as tightly as possible. When I tell you to, I want you to open them and stare at the book. Try to see and read as much as you can. The effect will be quite short."

Harry closed his eyes and waited. He felt a little uncomfortable and apprehensive about letting Valencia cast any spells on him without telling him precisely what it was. However, at the same time, he wanted to see what the pages said and trusted Valencia to know the best way to accomplish that.

"Alright, get ready," Valencia announced.

"_Lumenastrum!_"

A bright light burst forth from somewhere in front of him, visible even through Harry's closed eyes. It had been so intense that he had felt the flash on his face and hands.

"_Now!_" Valencia barked, before Harry's eyes had fully recovered. He forced them open and stared down at the page. The parchment was noticeably lighter and the ink stood out much more noticeably. Within a second or two, the light faded, leaving the pages darker than ever.

"Bloody hell," Ron interrupted again. "What was that? You can blast the thing with enough light to nearly blind us, but you nearly bit my head off when I opened the window on—"

"_Silence!_" Valencia snapped with a sudden vehemence that caught Ron off guard. Her eyes were shut tight as if she were in pain. "I need your eyes not your tongue. Now, since you obviously didn't pay attention to the pages, I'd appreciate it if you remained _quiet_." With Ron glaring angrily at her, she rubbed her eyes and slowly began blinking them. "Harry, what did you see?" she asked eagerly.

The moment he'd opened his eyes, he had been shocked by just how much he'd managed to see. "The, er— The writing was... all strange. It was written in some strange characters that I couldn't even make out."

"That's not surprising," she said with a wave of her hand. "What about the drawing? What was it?"

Harry's eyes turned toward Ginny and he found her staring back at him with the same emotions he was feeling. The drawing had been of a column, and he had needed only a fraction of the first second to recognize it. Now that he had, he didn't want to say what it was. It didn't make sense. He didn't want to believe that it could make sense.

Hermione was the first to speak up. "It was hard to tell, but it seemed as if it was were rope or some sort of braided fiber, but there were odd caps at the end. I guess it seemed familiar, but I'm not sure—"

"It was a column," Ginny said with absolute certainty.

Valencia's eyes widened. "You've seen it before?"

"Yes," she answered, "all of us have."

Feeling a little sick, Harry looked down at the featureless pages to avoid their gazes. "It's just like the columns in the Chamber of Secrets." Ron looked surprised. Hermione gasped and covered her mouth as she suddenly realized that Harry was right.

"So... I'm not sure what this means," Ron said slowly. "Is that where the Jewel is? It's been down there all this time?"

Valencia stared down at the blank page and shook her head. "No, that's not possible."

"No one ever searched the place," Ron replied. "Who knows what other things Slytherin might have stashed down there. Whatever this Jewel of Darkness is, it sounds like the sort of thing he'd like to have."

"No, you don't understand," Valencia replied. "This book could have been sailing across the North Atlantic when Hogwarts was being built. This cannot be a column from the Chamber of Secrets. These books have been around for thousands of years. This chapter was written two thousand years ago."

"I guess Salazar Slytherin wasn't all that creative," commented Ginny. "He must have seen the design in one of the books and copied it."

"Maybe it was more than that. Maybe Ron was on the right track," Hermione added. "What if he found the design in this book and used it in the Chamber as a way of keeping a copy of the design around. He could have been trying to hide clues for his ancestors or other wizards with similar prejudices."

"Clues to what, though?" Harry replied. "It's just a column. It doesn't really tell us anything or help us find anything. It's just like the talisman. All it tells us is that we were looking in the right place and we found a dead end."

"Well, there are still five more pages," Valencia reminded them. Again, she turned the page, held her wand out over the book and had them close their eyes. After another flash, they all stared down at the pages in front of them. This time there were only pages of text and what looked like a faded map of one of the Veil chambers.

The next set of pages was only text, though some of it seemed to be copies of inscriptions in a language none of them recognized. They found more of the same on the next page and the page after that. As Valencia held out her wand for the fifth page, Harry noticed that her eyes were looking quite red and the skin on her wand hand was inflamed. He looked down at his own hands and remembered the brief searing blast he felt with each burst of light. He realized that Valencia must have been quite determined to find out what was on the pages to subject herself to such an obviously painful process.

The light flashed again and when Harry opened his eyes, he found himself looking at Valencia and not the book. She had recoiled from the light, clenching her teeth in pain. Her skin was getting pale and blotchy. He wondered just how much it hurt to cast the spell.

"What is that?" gasped Ron.

Suddenly remembering what he was supposed to be doing, Harry quickly turned his eyes to the book just in time to see a large collection of black symbols fading into the brown parchment.

"It had a large ring, I think," Ginny said. "It might have been broken at the top."

"There were things in the middle, too," Hermione said. "Three of them, I think. With something in the center."

"What was it, Harry?" Valencia asked as she rubbed her eyes. They were quite bloodshot and the pupils were just tiny holes, making her eyes look disturbingly pale.

"I— I don't know," he admitted truthfully, hoping that his guilt wasn't too apparent. "It seemed to be quite a lot of things. It was large and blurry. I— I'm sorry," he told her. "There just wasn't enough time to even start figuring out what it was."

Valencia's disappointment was obvious and the intensity of it was surprising to Harry and the others. Blinking her reddened eyes, she raised her wand and urged them to finish up last pages. Harry forced himself to focus entirely on the book, but it didn't matter. None of the last four pages showed them anything useful. They were just pages of script and a few dark notes, all of them completely unreadable.

Valencia buried her head in her hands. "There is something important here," she announced in a muffled voice. "The destruction of ancient writings like this is not a risk easily taken. If someone ripped the pages out of every other book, then there must be a reason. There is something here they didn't want anyone to find. Something they weren't worried about until much more recently."

"Maybe the answer really is in the Chamber," Ginny suggested. "The pages weren't ripped out of this one because it was lost before the Chamber was made. Maybe someone didn't want anyone knowing about the link between the Veils and the Chamber?"

"No one knew about the Chamber," Valencia replied flatly. "It makes sense, but like Harry said, it doesn't tell us anything. It provides a link and nothing more. What is the point to hiding a key when no one knows the door exists?" She let out a long sigh and stared at the book. She reached out to the book, turned back two pages and ran her raw and swollen fingers across the page as if tracing the lines of ink.

"It's this," she whispered. "The symbols. That's what they were hiding. It fills the whole page. The parchment is darkest here. They wanted it forgotten and thought it would be enough to simply hide it from others' eyes. But it wasn't enough. People started to look for it. Perhaps the Chamber of Secrets does play a part in the tale. Perhaps it was Salazar Slytherin whom they first underestimated." She withdrew her hand but kept her eyes on the page. "Those symbols are our answer. That is what we have been looking for. They will lead us to our goal."

"We can try again," Hermione suggested. "Maybe it will work one more time. There's no rush, though. Take an hour to rest. Perhaps if we focus on just one part of the picture, we can—"

"The symbols you saw, they were large?" Valencia interrupted.

"Er... Yes, I guess," Hermione answered.

"And they were drawn in black ink, thick black ink?"

"Well, I don't really know for certain," Hermione began. "I mean I assume—"

"There is another way we can try," Valencia interrupted. "We can only try once and it's rather destructive, but I no longer care who might come to punish me. I have searched too long to turn back now."

"What do we need to do?" Harry asked.

Valencia didn't seem to even hear his question. "It's probably atramentum librarium," she mumbled to herself. "Turpentine. I'll need turpentine," she called out. "You have some, I assume?"

"I... I'll go check," Harry said as he made his way to the cellar where there were whole cupboards of potion ingredients he had never even looked through. After ten minutes of rummaging through dusty bottles, Harry gave up his search and called for Kreacher instead. A minute later he had a large bottle of clear liquid in his hand as he climbed the stairs to the kitchen again.

Valencia gave the bottle a questioning glare, but nodded and set it aside. In front of her was a single piece of parchment, easily larger than the book. Reaching for the book, she found they all agreed the symbols had been written on and unceremoniously ripped it from its binding, making Hermione gasp in horror. Making things worse, she laid the page on top of the parchment, drenched both of them in turpentine and dropped the old book on top of them.

"What— You're destroying—"

"Yes," Valencia agreed firmly. "The page is destroyed. But there is a chance that we may be able to steal some of its secrets from its death." She carefully lifted the book and peeled the wet and deteriorating fragments of the old page off the new sheet of parchment. Harry looked down and, to his amazement, he could a number of darkened patches of ink stained into the new parchment. They were light and indistinct, but they were there and they seemed to darken as the turpentine evaporated into the air.

The first thing Harry noticed was the large dark ring he'd spotted earlier. As Ginny said, there was a gap at the top, but it was now quite clear what it meant. The wide ring was formed into the clear shape of a large serpent encircling the rest of the symbols and preparing to eat its own tail.

"The Ouroboros," whispered Hermione.

"What exactly is it?" Ron asked. "It looks like a snake or... Basilisk. Is the Jewel being guarded by this Ouroboros creature?"

"It's not a creature," Hermione replied. "It's a symbol —a very old symbol, possibly one of the oldest. It's said to represent perfection, purity and endless balance in nature. The ouroboros is both good and evil. It's a symbol of infinite existence, of life and death at all times for eternity."

"It's _him_," said Harry. "It's the cloaked wizard. That is just how the Seer I spoke to in St. Mungo's described him. We can't kill him because death is irrelevant to him. He is life and death at once. He can't be destroyed, he just keeps on existing."

"There are other possible meanings," Valencia added, a thoughtful look on her face, "but I suspect that Harry is correct. This is a mark of the creature we have been fighting. It is eternal and not bound by nature."

"So what is the rest of it?" Ron asked, pointing to a group of dark shapes within the circle. There were three shapes arrayed across the top half of the circle within the snake and a dark dot at the very center. He cocked his head to the side. "Unless I'm seeing things, I'd say it looks like a group of three people, and this one is holding a sword," he added, pointing to the one on the right.

"Yes, I think you're right," Valencia agreed. "You see how it's holding the sword with the blade down? It's a gesture of loyalty. The figure is supposed to be a knight."

"But... you said this was over a thousand years old and knights—"

"It's not meant to be taken literally," she explained. "It's a symbol of unshakable loyalty. You could say it's also a... partisan or disciple or a protector. And then this—" she said, pointing to the shape on the opposite side, "—would be a traitor or betrayer. You can see it's holding a dagger pointed back at itself."

"And the large black shape at the top?" Hermione asked. "Is that something someone didn't want us to see?"

"No, the turpentine wouldn't have dissolved it," replied Valencia. "It must have been drawn that way." She bent over, lowering her face within inches of the parchment. "It looks like the shape of a man, but I can't tell anything more. There might have been something here, as well—" she said, pointing at a faint blur at the bottom of the circle, "—but it's too light to make out. It could be another group of smaller symbols."

Everyone fell silent. Beside Harry, Ginny was staring down at the parchment with a troubled look on her face. He was about to ask if she saw something when Ron interrupted.

"So, we have a big bloody snake and three odd symbols," he said. "We know that it doesn't die and that there's something about a knight and a traitor. Does that make sense to anyone?"

Harry leaned closer to the parchment. "What about this thing in the center, it's nothing at all, really. It's just a small black oval. Is it supposed to represent the Veils? Why is it so small? You'd think—"

"It's the Jewel," announced Ginny. "It's the Jewel of Darkness, and the lighter figure beneath it is holding it in her hand." Ginny reached forward slowly and traced a faint line from the dark spot in the center down to the faint shape below." Harry and Josef shared troubled looks. Neither of them had missed the fact that Ginny had recognized the figure and even identified it as female. "It's the Angel," she said flatly. "This is why he thinks I know where it is."

Hermione reached out and began tapping the figures one by one. "The Knight, the Traitor, the Angel and—"

"—the Demon," Harry finished for her. "That was what Grigore called us when we were brought down to the Veil chamber. He thought we were— I don't know what he thought. Are these supposed to be real people?"

"The Angel was real," Ginny whispered. "The cloaked wizard said she was real. He said that she betrayed him. To him, she's as real as I am."

"So she was there when he was stopped before," said Ron. "Maybe what we need to do is go and find the other three."

Ginny tensed immediately. "I am _not_ this Angel, Ron," she snapped. "You have no idea how much he hates her. She did something horrible to him. I— I don't doubt he deserved it, but the rage he—" Her voice was trembling slightly and behind the anger, Harry could hear her fear. "If we don't stop him or convince him that I'm not who he thinks I am, I—" she continued in a wavering tone, "I can't imagine what he'll do to me. Don't you even _dare_ suggest that he's right. If he knew you believed that—"

"That's not what I meant," Ron tried to argue, but it did little to help. Harry understood his intentions, but knew that it was not the right time to try and explain it to them. After receiving a reproachful look from Hermione, Ron dropped his head and mumbled an apology and pretended to continue inspecting the parchment for details.

"Maybe it's something like Hogwarts," Harry said in an attempt to try and return the conversation to less confrontational topics. "This snake symbol is all about balance, right? Well, these four people are balanced, too. What if they were a group, or team and then it sort of fell apart, just like Salazar Slytherin ended up leaving Hogwarts."

"It's possible, I suppose," Hermione replied, sounding less than enthusiastic.

"He said that I— that the Angel was supposed to balance him," Ginny said. Her voice was still a little unsteady. "Maybe they all turned on him."

"Oi! Look at this down here," Ron called out, pointing at a smudge in the bottom corner. "It almost looks like writing, but I can't make much sense of it."

The Ginny and Hermione gave him sour looks, but after taking a look, Hermione's curiosity overrided her frustration and she leaned a little closer. "They're probably runes, but they're not like anything I've seen."

"Perhaps pictographs or hieroglyphics," suggested Valencia as she leaned over Ron's shoulder. Harry stared at them as well, but couldn't make anything of the dim, blurry blotches.

"I've got it!" he called out. "The image is backwards. If you flip it over—" Ron picked up the parchment and held it in front of a candle so the light shone through it. "I think I can see a couple letters." Squinting over his shoulder, Harry began to see what Ron was talking about.

"If you connect the dark patches," Ron said as he reached for a quill, "you can see an L and a—" Ron quickly drew in the lines of the letters. "_LV_? But that can't be Lord... Voldemort?"

"There are more," Hermione said, snatching the quill from Ron. Connecting another set of dark patches, she added another pair of V's before the L. "It doesn't make much sense. Perhaps they were runes and we are just—"

"No," Valencia said, stopping her. "That V is too wide. It's an M. This over here is an R and this odd mark over here works if you draw it as a pair of curves." Her voice was filled with a triumphant excitement. She finished filling in the weak spots and leaned back, letting everyone else see the final result:

_XIV ROMVLVS_

"Romulus?" Hermione gasped. "That has to mean the fourteenth year of Romulus's reign as king. Does that mean that Romulus himself drew this?"

"Either that, or some other wizard living in the village that would become Rome," answered Valencia. "These symbols weren't drawn from stories passed down by village elders. This symbol actually exists —or at least, it did at some point— and now we know exactly where that was."

"We still don't know what it means," commented Ginny.

"That doesn't matter," Harry replied. "We never expected to find all the answers, but now we know where to go to start looking for them."

* * *

"I don't like this plan," Harry announced.

"That's probably because it's well thought out," Josef grumbled as he levitated a large bundle of fabric and poles that was his tent past Harry and Ginny.

"There are too many," Harry said loudly. "You used to hate it when Grigore sent out more than six of us to handle anything. How many wizards do we have here? _Eighteen?_"

"Sixteen," Josef corrected as he came to a stop and glared at Harry. "Two of the Aurors were only here to deliver food and water."

"Valencia and Justinian still aren't here," Harry reminded him.

Josef rolled his eyes. "And I counted them already, despite the fact that they'll be leaving an hour after they arrive and taking two of the Aurors with them, leaving us with just twelve."

"So only twice as many as we should have," Harry replied with a sarcastic nod. "That might almost be a comfort to me if I wasn't convinced that you had suddenly forgotten everything you've ever learned."

Josef let his tent drop and strode back over to Harry. "And who should we send home?"

"We don't need the Aurors."

Josef lowered his voice so only Harry and Ginny could hear him. "We _do_ need the Aurors because your Ministry insisted on them after your lack of foresight let the cloaked wizard into the Department of Mysteries last week."

"That doesn't mean we need to bring the rest," Harry replied. "We're supposed to be here to visit a bloody library! Valencia, Hermione, and Lupin could do it."

"And you," Josef added. "You seem to have a special insight into these things."

"Yes," agreed Harry, "I wouldn't ask them to do this without me."

"Who, then, would you leave behind?" he asked. "Ginny? You'd prefer that she stays back in London? Alone?"

Harry didn't answer the question. He already knew the answer and neither him nor Josef needed to see the look on Ginny's face to see how possible that would have been.

"Would Ron be any more willing to part from Hermione?" Josef asked. "Or Miss Tonks from Remus?"

"No, that's not—"

"Simon cannot very well be left behind," Josef continued. "He is Tonks's partner and they've just been re-assigned to keep an eye on you."

"Justinian, then?" Harry asked, feeling like he'd already lost this argument. "Do we expect to find Acromantulas in the camp or doxies in the library?"

"I would agree with you —and Valencia did as well—" he added, "but it seems that Justinian is capable of reading quite a few languages, including Latin, Ancient Greek, and a number of Egyptian languages. Even Valencia admitted —reluctantly— that he would be useful." Josef looked at Harry and shrugged. "Who else?"

"I don't know, I—"

"Me then," Josef said. "You think you would be better off without me?"

Harry shook his head in defeat. "No. If we have to bring all the rest, we might as well bring along someone who knows what we're doing."

With a faint smile, Josef nodded and turned his wand on his tent and quietly walked off. Ginny had been watching silently and gave Harry a similar smile before levitating their own tent.

The campsite the Ministry had chosen for them was still quite some distance from Rome, but a nearby cabin had a fireplace connected to the local Floo network. It was usually maintained as a foreign ministers, celebrities and other famous witches and wizards to stay without drawing the attention they might if they actually stayed in Rome. It was protected by charms and there were no other wizards around to know that they were there.

The British Ministry had arranged for it after Josef had contacted them behind Harry's back. After finding out about Lucy and everything she had done, Josef didn't think any of the hideouts set up by the Brotherhood would be safe and could think of nothing else. Harry still wasn't happy about it, but he hadn't been able to come up with any other alternative.

In the end, the plan wasn't so far from what Harry would have come up with by himself. He was just annoyed that it had been put together without his input. He and Ginny had found the oldest libraries in Rome and Valencia claimed that she would be able to search them quickly and quietly during the night. She would return the next morning and the group would go investigate whatever she had managed to find. While Valencia was searching libraries, a pair of Aurors were going to the Italian Ministry of Magic to warn them the the Veil —wherever it was— was going to be attacked soon.

The only real problem Harry found with this plan was the fact that it didn't really involve him. His job was to sit around the camp and wait for Valencia and Justinian to return with some clue of where they should concentrate their search. Hermione had offered to join them, but Valencia turned her away, saying that her help wasn't needed. Harry wondered if it had something to do with Hermione's arm. Justinian quickly agreed and Hermione accepted her fate with as much happiness as Harry had accepted his.

Of course, if Valencia and Justinian managed to stumble across the answers they were looking for, then there would be absolutely nothing for Harry or Hermione to do. It made him feel restless and useless.

That night, after the sun had gone down and the moon began to peek through the wispy clouds, Valencia and Justinian arrived. She didn't seem pleased with the company but she kept any complaints quiet. The two of them didn't waste any time and neither of them brought a tent or anything to suggest they planned to stay for longer than a day. Within minutes, they had met up with the Aurors going to speak to the Italians and they began walking off toward the cabin.

The night air was cool and crisp. Harry retreated to his tent at the top of the hill overlooking the camp. He closed up the tent and flicked his wand at the fireplace. A small fire crackled to life, spreading heat through the tent. Ginny was already there and she had already brewed some tea. Harry accepted the cup and promptly burnt his mouth by trying to drink it too quickly. It helped a little with his impatience, but did nothing to make the time pass any quicker.

After pacing around the rather spacious interior of the tent for some time, Ginny finally convinced him to go to sleep. He lay in bed for almost an hour before he slowly drifted off to sleep, thoughts of giant serpents and dark gems filling his mind.

* * *

Ginny awoke in the middle of the night. Her throat was dry and her skin was damp with a thin sheen of sweat. Sitting up, she felt the hot air inside the tent pressing in upon her. She needed to cool off and remembered Harry leaving a pitcher of water in the other room. She slipped out of bed quietly, avoided her dressing gown and walked into the other room. She shook her head as she entered. The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly. They must have forgotten to turn it down before going to sleep. The heat was oppressive and as she approached, it was enough to make her head swim. After taking a moment to regain her balance, she flicked her wand at the fire, and the flames shrank to half their height.

The room was still oppressively warm and Ginny's throat felt dry and scratchy. Picking up a glass along the way, she walked over to the pitcher Harry had left. As she began to pour water into the glass, she saw or felt a shadow pass behind her. She spun around quickly —too quickly— and the room spun around her and began to fade away.

The pitcher struck the table loudly, jarring Ginny back to consciousness. A large crack stretched from the base of the pitcher to its upper lip, but it remained unbroken. Relieved, she turned again, expecting to find Harry awake and thirsty as well. Instead, all she found was an empty room with the entrance to the tent open and flapping gently in the night breeze.

"Harry?" she called out as she walked to the entrance. Hearing no response, she poked her head out of the tent and searched the immediate area. It had only been a few seconds. He could not have gotten far.

Finding the night air warmer than she expected, she slowly stepped out of the tent for a more thorough search. She spotted him some distance away, striding down the hill as if driven by some purpose. She called out to him again, but he didn't react and within seconds, he had passed out of sight.

Ginny quickly ran after him, fearing whatever circumstance that had driven him to leave the tent. As she started down the hill, she realized that Harry had disappeared mysteriously. Under the light of the half-moon, the camp could be seen without much trouble, but there was no sign of Harry. At the foot of the hill she could see a number of wizards scattered about, but none of them could be Harry. They all looked like Aurors. Fear began to creep into her mind. _Where had Harry gone? What was happening?_

She continued down the hill, but quickly slowed her pace. Something was wrong. The Aurors had let the fire in the center of camp go out. There were also only five of them. All of the Aurors worked in pairs. Where had the sixth gone? Even more importantly, none of them were moving. It appeared as if they were all asleep. Though her faith in Aurors had been shaken recently, she found it difficult to believe that five Aurors would all fall asleep at once. Something was wrong. She told herself that she should turn back and look for Harry or Josef, but something drove her onward.

Walking slowly, Ginny neared the very first Auror. He was lying on his side at the base of a large, thick tree. His arms and legs were lying haphazardly in front of him. He made no movement at her approach. As she stepped closer in an attempt to wake him up, she heard the grass squish beneath her and felt something warm underfoot. Looking down, she saw thick, crimson liquid seeping up from the ground and staining her feet.

She leaped backward in fear and disgust. Only then did she notice the unnatural angle of the man's neck. Looking up, she could see a bare spot in the tree, spattered ominously red. Turning around, she looked at the other four Aurors. None of them had moved.

Reluctantly, she began walking toward them. Three of them were clustered together. Before she had even reached them, she could see that one of them seemed to be missing his head. Another's skin was blackened horribly. Nothing was visibly wrong with the third, though her vacant stare confirmed that she was just as dead as the others.

Ginny walked toward the last one, fearing what she would find. Should she call for the others? Was it too late? Had they all escaped? Where was Harry? She stopped some distance away from the fifth Auror. There was a large hole in his back, eliminating any possibility of his survival. Kneeling down to get a better look, Ginny recognized him as one of the Aurors who had been sent to Rome to warn the Italian Ministry.

"It was a pointless attempt," a voice announced from behind her.

Ginny spun around and found a hooded wizard glaring at her with glowing green eyes. In the moonlight, she could nearly make out his face. He looked younger and she could almost imagine him being handsome if his spirit weren't so vile and hate-filled. She understood the reason instinctually: he was getting stronger.

"You did them a great disservice by trying to warn them," he continued. "I have no desire to needlessly kill others. It is vengeance and justice which I hunger for."

Mastering her fear, Ginny stood up and tried to get a better look at her surroundings. "And what about those innocent witches and wizards in Paris?" she asked. "What did they do to you to deserve your vengeance?"

"They were pawns," he replied, "nothing more. Their deaths were unfortunate but I was given little choice in the matter. You have left me with no other option."

"Their deaths were unfortunate? You had no choice?" she shot back. "You did have a choice and you _chose_ to murder them."

"No, Ginny," he replied in a solemn tone. "No, this is simply the unavoidable consequences of _your_ choices."

"You're insane!" she cried. "Cordelia Reading did nothing to deserve her death. Lucy was guilty of nothing more than loving a good wizard, but you drove her to suicide.

"I may have been the instrument of their deaths," he said, "but I am only fulfilling your will. I am merely fulfilling the fate you have crafted for them. You are the one with the power to save their lives. You can save all of them. They do not need to die. This is not the world you must live in. There is another choice. It is up to you. This is your choice."

"And what choice is that?" she asked as she tried to fight the panic building within her. Where was everyone? Where was Harry? Ginny's eyes scanned the silent camp, finding nothing at all encouraging.

"All you need to do is ask," he said smoothly.

"You're lying," Ginny spat. "You'd never do it unless you got something in return."

"Of course. Everything has its price," he replied in a condescending tone. "I have already told you what the price of your forgiveness is. Have you forgotten already?"

"We don't have the Jewel," she said. "I've told you. You've already asked me a dozen—"

"You know where it is. You've seen the symbol. Do not deny it. He told me before I took him," he said, nodding toward the Auror on the ground nearby. "You found the symbol. You found the Jewel. You came here to try and use it. Its power is beyond you. Give it to me and you can stop all of this. Deny me, and your friends will suffer."

"We've seen the symbol, yes," she admitted, "but we haven't found the Jewel. I cannot choose to give you something I don't have!"

The cloaked wizard stared at her. For a brief instant, she recognized confusion and uncertainty in his glowing eyes. She had managed to surprise him. For all that he claimed to know, he was not beyond doubt.

"You are telling the truth," he whispered pensively, as if this were something he had never considered. "Then why come to Rome?" he asked. "What is it that you hoped to find here? Is it the Priest? Is this where he has been hiding?"

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked with real curiosity. The cloaked wizard obviously expected her to know much more than she truly did. Hoping for something that might help, Ginny tried to encourage him. "Why would the Priest help us?"

"I do not know," the wizard replied hesitantly. "Perhaps he has discovered what I already know. Perhaps he wishes to fill your mind with lies and false hopes of victory." He paused a moment. "Was it him? Was he the one who showed it to you?"

"What would he show us?"

"That!" the wizard barked, pointing over Ginny's shoulder.

She turned slowly, unwilling to take her eyes off him. To her surprise, she saw a wall of dusty-colored stone standing behind her. On any other occasion, the fact that it had simply appeared would have been mysterious enough. However, its sudden appearance was overshadowed by the appearance of an exact duplicate of the symbol she had seen in the book Valencia had brought to them. It seemed to be scratched into the wall by some rough instrument and tinted in places by simple pigments, though obviously with some time and care. The four figures inside the serpent were quite clear, allowing her to see that the one on the bottom had a slender figure with a head of rust-colored hair.

"This is not the first time you have seen it," the wizard growled. "Tell me where you saw it."

Ginny felt a tingle of hope. She knew something he did not. Preparing herself for the possible backlash, she stood proud and replied, "Why should I tell you?"

"Because you do not wish to see these people die," he snarled angrily. "You will tell me because you want to know if I will truly keep my word and spare the lives of your friends. Now, tell me where you saw that symbol and they will never know the peril you put them in."

Ginny felt a hot breeze blow across her bare skin and felt her shoulder throb with pain. Reaching up to massage the area, she found a swollen lump and the beginnings of a dark bruise. It looked as if she had fallen down or been struck with something large and heavy, though she couldn't remember anything like that happening that night. Certainly it had not happened that night.

She turned to look at the wall again, then back at the cloaked wizard. "What is— I— How am I supposed to save them?" she asked confusedly.

"You will tell me where you saw that symbol," he answered calmly.

"But— they're already dead."

"I suppose they are," the wizard replied with a nod, "but only because you refuse to cooperate. They died the moment they agreed to join you."

"What is this? Where are we?" Ginny asked as she turned around, searching the area for something to help her understand what was happening. Suddenly she remembered the night she had first seen the apparition of the cloaked wizard in the mansion on Grimmauld Place and the nightmare she had in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.

"It's not real," she whispered, then glared at the wizard and spoke in a clearer voice. "This isn't real. It's a dream, isn't it?"

The wizard smiled and began walking away. "We have spoken long enough. I am very busy," he said with a wave of his hand, "and it is time for you to wake up."

* * *

Harry jerked awake and found himself sitting up in bed. Something felt wrong. He felt hot —uncomfortably hot. He was sweating and his head throbbed. Wiping his brow, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood up.

"Hermione!" he gasped, seeing his friend standing directly in front of him. "Bloody hell! I didn't even notice you there." He let himself fall back to his bed and rubbed his eyes while his heart pounded in his chest.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked in a worried voice. "You don't look so well."

"Just... surprised," he said, "and my head aches. I think I've got a fever. I wonder if any of the Aurors have anything for that."

"You left your fire burning pretty hot," Hermione said. "I doused it a little for you. It is really warm in here."

"Oh, that's good, I guess," he said, blinking his eyes. "Thanks for that. I wonder how Ginny is handling the—" He stopped suddenly as he realized that Ginny was not lying in the bed. "Where is Ginny?"

"Don't worry," Hermione reassured him. "She's just outside. She stepped out a little bit ago. I think she went to talk with Josef."

"With Josef— at this hour?"

Hermione shrugged. "It couldn't have been easy to sleep in here," she said. "She probably just wanted some cooler air and knew that Josef is normally awake late into the night."

"What about you?" he asked. "Why are you awake?"

She looked down at the floor. "I don't sleep much these days either, but... for some reason, tonight was different."

"You were asleep, but something woke you up," he said. "Is everything alright? Is there a problem?"

"No, er— yes— I don't know," she answered haltingly, then frowned. "The problem is that there... isn't a problem."

"You mean, you're worried about the fact that there hasn't been an attack?"

"No," she said quietly. "No, it's a little more confusing than that. I had a... dream, I guess. I had to see if it was true. I— I didn't mean to wake you up. Normally you'd sleep through it but, well—" Instead of trying to explain anything more, Hermione pulled open the black cloak she'd been wearing and held out her left arm.

It took Harry a moment to understand what he was seeing. She wasn't wearing the satin gloves he'd become so accustomed to. The skin of her hand was even more pale and corpse-like than he'd remembered it. Her fingernails were an ugly purple, matching the dark veins of color that ran up her arm to the dark grey mark which had spread to cover her entire elbow. Then, she slowly turned over her hand to show him her palm. It, too, was discolored and lifeless, except for the first few inches of her fingers, which looked youthful, vibrant and healthy.

"What— How—" he stammered.

"In my dream, I heard or... thought I heard a voice," she began. "It told me that I didn't need to suffer. It said that my cure had always been right in front of me. This _curse_ could be broken by... overcoming my fear."

Harry stood up and took a closer look at her hand. "I don't understand."

"I touched you, Harry," she said. "It took just a second. Somehow, your touch can heal me. I don't understand it, but—" She held up her hand. The results were difficult to ignore.

"But why—"

"_I don't care why,_" she replied harshly. "I don't want to know how it works, or how long it's been since you could do this, or what might have changed in you to make this possible. I don't care, Harry. I really don't." She stared at him and continued in a wavering voice. "I don't want to end up like Mira."

"We should wake Lupin and Tonks," Harry suggested. "They'll want—"

"I don't care what they want," she interrupted. "They'll want to take me to St. Mungo's where a group of grey-haired Healers can watch and study me as I slowly get better. They won't care about the pain or the nightmares or the horrible sensation of realizing that you're slowly losing yourself." She shook her head and glared intensely at him.

"This isn't your choice anymore, Harry. You did this to me. You _will_ fix it. If you don't—" she said, pausing to take in a ragged breath, "—I'll choose the same fate as Lucy. I won't let him take me."

Harry remained frozen for a moment, uncertain of just what he should do. Hermione, taking his inaction as agreement, slowly reached up to untie her cloak and let it drop to the floor. Underneath it she was wearing a short nightgown of thin, red silk. Harry instinctively stepped back as if she'd tried to attack him and searched the room frantically as though he were afraid he was being watched.

"Er, Hermione, I'm not really—"

Even as he backed away, she stepped forward and clutched his arm. With firm determination, she pulled him back toward her, and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Harry paused, momentarily shocked at the simultaneously hot and cold feeling of her skin. Slowly it began to even out. He felt his own hand growing warm and it seemed to flow into her arm. Looking down, he could see the fingers of her hand gradually gaining color as the dark veins receded.

Only inches away from him, he could feel Hermione's breathing speed up. Gently, she slid his hand farther up her arm and then let go. Harry didn't pull away. He felt the same strange blending of sensations, only more intense. Hermione let out a quiet gasp as he shifted his hand a little higher so that it rested on the spot where Marius Lipton had grabbed her. She faltered a little, then stumbled forward and grabbed onto Harry to keep from falling. He almost let go, but at the last second, her eyes looked up at him, silently pleading him to continue.

Using one arm to steady her, he slowly shifted his other hand higher up her arm, chasing away the curse which had been flowing through it for months. It had progressed father than Harry had dared to think. It had already passed over her shoulder and was beginning to creep down her back, over her chest and up the side of her neck.

Though she urged him onwards, the process seemed to be weakening Hermione. As he ran his hand across her back, her legs went limp and she slumped against him. "Hurry," she whispered weakly, "there's no time—"

Harry slid his hand to her neck, where the very last dark patch remained. As his palm pressed against her skin, Hermione looked up and opened her eyes. There was something odd about them and before Harry could figure out exactly what it was, her arms reached to his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. Her lips were not merely warm, but unnaturally hot. He forced his eyes open and found Hermione staring back at him with grim determination.

He tried to push himself away, but Hermione's grip on him was unbreakable. She pulled him closer, pressing her body against his and wrapping one of her legs around his. Off balance, he tried to escape again, but failed, accomplishing nothing more than forcing a soft chuckle from her throat. Her lips were painfully hot, now, and she was slowly forcing his mouth open.

"H-Harry?"

Terror gripped him as Hermione finally released him. He spun around, his arms still tangled in Hermione's, and found Ginny standing in the doorway, watching the two of them with hollow eyes.

"Harry— I—" she stammered. "I... have to go. Stay— stay away from me."

Turning quickly, she tried to walk away, but stumbled and fell to the floor. Harry finally extracted himself and called to her, but she climbed back onto her feet and ran out of the tent before he could get to the doorway.

A long, rattling breath drew his attention back to the room behind him. Hermione was lying on the floor, her left arm limp, deathly pale and streaked with purple-grey while her right arm clutched at her neck. The discoloration had spread farther up her neck than it had been just moments earlier, with a darker patch that faintly resembled the shape of his hand.

Hermione's eyes fluttered as flecks of green glowed in the dim light. "And now, at last..." she whispered, "she knows what betrayal is."

The light in her eyes dimmed and Hermione collapsed onto the floor. Harry rushed towards her, but at that very moment, a piercing scream cut through the night. Recognizing it as Ginny, Harry turned and bolted from the tent.

Harry wasn't the only one who had heard the scream. He had barely made it out of his tent when Ron intercepted him.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked frantically. "She's not in our tent, I—"

"She's in our tent," Harry answered quickly. "The scream was Ginny's."

"Ginny—" Ron gasped. "Wait, why was Hermione in—"

"There's no time, Ron," Harry said as he ran down the hill toward the rest of the tents.

At the foot of the hill, Harry spotted Ginny. Standing behind her was a tall wizard clad in a tattered black cloak. One of his hands was wrapped around her neck while the other covered her mouth. A pair of Aurors were lying lifeless nearby.

Harry broke into a sprint even as Tonks, Simon, Lupin, Justinian and the Aurors burst from their tents. Josef was already out of his tent, but he was just standing near Ginny and the wizard, doing nothing. With fear and anger flowing through him, he reached the bottom of the hill and strode toward the cloaked wizard.

"Let her go!" Harry cried.

The cloaked wizard let out a hissing laugh. "And if I do not," he replied, "what exactly will you do to me? You do not even have a wand."

Harry's hands dropped to his sides and only then did he realize that he was still wearing his pajamas. His wand was still lying on the shelf near the bed in his tent. His eyes jumped over to Josef, who frowned and returned an empty-handed shrug. Josef had left his wand behind as well.

"How unsurprising," the cloaked wizard replied. "Should we call it a tragedy that your supposed lover forgot to bring his only means of rescuing you from death, or is it more of a curious coincidence? It seems a strange thing to forget. What could have distracted him so much that he would do such a thing?"

Harry refused to answer. Ron had caught up to him and Harry refused to let the cloaked wizard manipulate him.

The cloaked wizard, however, was not easily denied. He lifted his hand from Ginny's mouth and repeated the question: "Tell me, Ginny: What was distracting Harry?" Her eyes found Harry and he could see the anguish in them, but she too remained silent.

The wizard's eyes blazed green and his free arm shot out to point at one of the Aurors who had gathered around. The Auror stumbled forward, then collapsed onto the rough ground and began writhing in pain.

"I grow tired of your childish defiance," growled the cloaked wizard. "I have tolerated it in the past, but that time is over. Your actions do have consequences, Ginny." He twisted his arm and the Auror on the ground let out a strangled moan as her back arched in pain. "Tell me what Harry was doing."

"Why?" she replied sharply. "What does it matter if I do what you say? Nothing I say will save her."

The wizard's eyes flickered and his hand glowed a faint green. Seconds later, a series of sharp cracks filled the night air followed by agonized screams. It lasted only a few seconds, then the Auror's body relaxed and fell silent, leaving her eyes staring vacantly into the sky.

"That was mercy," the wizard said. "There are many others nearby and I have no use for any of them. _Speak!_" he commanded. When Ginny didn't respond, he pointed at yet another Auror who was promptly tugged off his feet and dragged toward the wizard by invisible hands.

Stopping only a few feet away, the Auror struggled to get up even as a corner of his cloak began to burn with a pale green flame. The wizard quickly tried to unclasp the cloak, but the cord had pulled tight around his neck and refused to open. He tried a dozen spells to extinguish the fire, but nothing worked. Sitting up he tried to stamp it out with his boot, but that only helped the flame spread. Finally, he paused, and aimed his wand not at the fire, but at the cloth above it.

"_Diffindo!_" he shouted. There was a flash of light and then a sharp cry of pain as a deep cut opened on the wizard's leg.

"Shield cloaks," laughed the wizard. "Ingenious inventions to be certain, though not without their flaws." The Auror struggled to stop the blood flowing from leg, but it seemed that every charm he tried was reflected by his cloak, which continued to slowly burn.

"Speak quickly, Ginny," the wizard ordered her. "His life is in your hands now. What happened in the tent? Why was Harry so distracted? What did you see that made you run out here?" The Auror cried out as the green flames began to spread to his robes.

"Harry was there," she growled, "with Hermione."

"And what were they doing?"

"It doesn't matter," she snapped.

"It does not matter?" the wizard shouted. "What has he done to deserve such blind faith? He has lied to you! He has used you! He has betrayed you!"

"No," Ginny replied. "I refuse to believe that."

"Tell her the truth, Harry," the wizard called out. "Was it the first time? Was this even the first time that you've been caught during one of your liaisons with Hermione?"

"No," he admitted reluctantly, and saw tears begin building in Ginny's eyes. He turned away, unable to look at her and spotted Josef slowly trying to make his way back to his tent though he had paused at this revelation from Harry.

"Indeed," chuckled the cloaked wizard. "And the previous time, how long ago was it?"

Harry looked from the Auror on the ground to the cloaked wizard, stopping only briefly to glance at Josef. "It was the ninth of October," he declared, trying to shorten the ordeal as much as possible. "It was just before I revealed that I was still alive."

"Your last day of hiding," the wizard replied. "The very last hour. Your last chance to enjoy the life you had crafted for yourself." He twisted Ginny's neck to stare into her eyes. "_This_ is the wizard who deserves your loyalty?" he asked her. "This is the choice you have made? You continue to refuse me, the one who has been trying to show you the truth from the very start, while you go to sleep every night next to a wizard who continues to demonstrate how little he cares for you."

"It wasn't Harry!" she shouted. "It was _you_. It was always you! You're the one who has done this. You make it happen. You twisted them just like you've twisted everyone else you touch."

"Are you so certain?" he asked. "You know about Hermione, now. I have no doubt that my dear Lucy delivered news of her own. Can you really convince yourself that they were the only ones? Can you convince yourself that I was always the one responsible?" He reached down to press a finger against her lips and Harry felt his stomach boil. "How convenient of an excuse that would be. See how he adopts it so quickly. See how easily he has lied to you for months, how easily he has lied to all of his friends. How many other lies is he hiding? How many other secrets has he buried? Your lips say that you believe him, but will your heart ever be able to do the same?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed defiantly, even as he clutched her neck. "It won't work," she said, her voice rasping slightly. "Everything you say is filled with deception and lies. I'll never believe you. I'll never help you. I'll find the Jewel and I'll see that you go back to whatever wretched place you came from."

Black vapor boiled off the wizard's cloak as he lifted Ginny into the air and threw her down onto the ground. "Foolish woman," he spat. "You will see. We will see if you can still be so defiant when you see the price of your insolence!"

He quickly raised both his arms and the flames which had been slowly climbing up the Auror's cloak burst into a raging inferno of dagger-shaped tongues of flame. Blood-curdling screams, muffled by the roar of the fire, filled the air as Lupin and Simon leaped forward to try and save the poor man. Even as they kneeled down near him, a jet of blood-red sparks shot from the cloaked wizard's hand and struck him, ending his screams in a long, gurgling breath. With a swipe of his hand, the cloaked wizard sent Lupin and Simon flying backwards.

He strode forward, trailing a black, oily vapor which curled to the ground and seemed to slither away like hundreds of wraith-like snakes. Ginny scrambled along the ground, attempting to escape him and Harry dashed forward to help her. A pair of Aurors joined him, aiming their wands at the ground and causing a thick bramble to erupt from the ground and tangle the cloaked wizard's feet.

Harry reached Ginny, slipped his arm around her shoulders and hauled her to her feet as the thick bramble turned to ash and fell to the ground. With a swipe of the cloaked wizard's arm, one of the Aurors was launched through the air to slam into a nearby tree, The other was unceremoniously beheaded with yet another swipe.

A ball of light appeared out of nowhere and sped toward Harry, He tried to dodge it, but with Ginny's extra weight, it was simply impossible. It struck him with the force of a boulder and drove him to the ground. In two strides, the cloaked wizard had closed the distance to them and reached down to lift Ginny from the ground again.

"You trust Harry?" he snarled. "You can forgive his betrayal? Or perhaps you are simply willing to forget? Let's see how forgiving you can be when every dream, every nightmare, every idle thought is filled with the scene you saw tonight. Then we will see just how truly forgiving you are." He pressed his hand against her forehead and began to chant in a deep voice.

"No," Ginny whimpered as the cloaked wizard's hand began to glow. "No, please—"

"_No!_" a much louder voice cried out. A second later a sharp wooden point burst through the cloaked wizard's chest and he dropped Ginny to the ground. Stumbling forward and spitting blood, he turned around revealing the twig-end of a broom still sticking out of his back. He cast his flickering eyes at the small witch still standing behind him. Harry could barely believe his eyes. It was Hermione, still in her red nightgown, with her pale, cursed arm curled against her chest and clutching her wand.

"How dare you—" he whispered in a raspy voice. "You cannot defy—"

"I'm not your puppet, yet," Hermione snarled as she lunged forward, delivering a surprisingly vicious punch across the wizard's jaw. He toppled onto the ground and gasped for air as the light faded from his eyes. Hermione stood over him and watched as he struggled for air. "You've done quite enough for tonight. We'll be gone before you manage to return."

Harry slowly got back onto his feet and watched in disgust as at thick fume began to seep from the body. It twisted and curled around his feet before slipping away as if blown by a strong breeze.

Hermione fell to her knees and cradled her left arm. "We need to go," she whispered. "If he wants to come back, it won't take him long."

Ron rushed forward and kneeled down next to her. He said nothing, but Harry detected something troubling. Ron was at Hermione's side, but his eyes remained on the ground. He did not look at Harry or Hermione and only checked briefly to see that Ginny was unhurt.

Eager to avoid any sort of confrontation, Harry focused on the task at hand. "We need to warn the Italian Ministry," he said as he helped Ginny to her feet again. "They need to—"

"It's too late," Ginny interrupted. "The Veil was destroyed. He destroyed most of the Ministry looking for the Jewel. There's nothing left for us to do. We should just go back to London."

"Yeah," sighed Harry. "Alright then. Pack up the camp. We'll send need to tell Valencia and Justinian what happened so they don't try to come back. If they manage to find anything, we'll have to come back for it later."

"I doubt they found anything," Josef added. "If they did, they may not be alive to tell anyone about it."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

A little slow in coming, but here it is. I know the one thing everyone wanted was more romance between Harry and Hermione. Well, at least now you know why the first scene happened.

Now, I'd never say this at the start of the chapter, but I wasn't as satisfied with this chapter as I have been with others. It's fine and all, just not impressive. Maybe it was the slightly repetitive feel or the length or the fact that it didn't really advance the plot much. Oh well. It was needed, but apparently that's not enough to make me like it.


	15. The Broken Jar

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

**The Broken Jar**

* * *

Harry's return to Grimmauld Place was considerably less than triumphant. After seeing that his friends made it through the front door, he locked it with a bolt and cast a pair of the strongest locking charms he knew.

Hermione disappeared almost immediately. Harry caught only a glimpse of her as she slipped up the stairs, ignoring any self-consciousness she might have had as she struggled out of her blood spattered nightgown. Ron followed close behind her after giving Harry a confused look which managed to mix both understanding and crushing disappointment.

Harry spun about and found Ginny. If he had any questions about how she was feeling, he only needed to look into her eyes. He didn't know what he was supposed to say, or what he could say. He just knew that he should say something.

"Ginny, I'm really sorry. If you—"

"No, not now, Harry," she interrupted. "I need— some time." Holding out her hand in a forbidding gesture, she turned and began climbing the stairs. Harry strode after her, but stopped as a strong hand grabbed his shoulder.

"I can't say I'm any better at these things than you," whispered Josef, "but I know that she's not going to get any comfort from your company right now."

"It wasn't—" Harry began.

"_I know,_ Harry," Josef replied firmly. "I know it wasn't you, and so does she, but that doesn't matter right now. This isn't about you, it's about her. Give her time." Harry relaxed and leaned back against the wall, his eyes locked on Ginny's silhouette as she reached the top of the stairs. He felt helpless and weak. Josef gave him a reassuring pat on the back, then began walking up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked suddenly.

"To follow her," Josef replied as if this were obvious. "Someone needs to keep an eye on her at all times. If you can't see how important she is to all of this, then we're doomed."

"How come you can follow her, but I can't?"

Josef frowned and looked at Harry with heavy eyes. "Because she still loves you, and I'm afraid that's a painful thought for her at the moment."

Josef left Harry standing alone at the foot of the stairs. With nothing more to do, he did the only thing that was left: He sat at the kitchen table sipping cups of tea while waiting to hear some news of Valencia and Justinian. He had to admit that Josef was right and if the cloaked wizard knew they were near Rome, then they may have been dead before Harry had even woken up. He prepared himself for the worst.

When he heard a knock at the door a little after dawn, he expected to find an Auror or some other representative from the Ministry come to tell him a gruesome tale, but he found Valencia on his doorstep instead. Wearing a heavy maroon cloak with a hood that hung low over her face, she asked Harry to let her enter.

Suspicious of her unexplained arrival, Harry raised his wand and held his ground. "Why are you here?" he asked. "How did you know to come here?"

"I'm no fool, Potter," she snapped, casting nervous looks to either side. "I returned to the camp and noticed the blood right away. Four bodies plus one stabbed with a broomstick. It seemed obvious the last was the attacker, and as five of you live here, I knew that at least one of you must remain. I admit, I expected it to be Ginny."

"We're all still alive," Harry replied coldly, unimpressed by her apparent disinterest in the suspected death of his friends. "Why are you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You and I have had drastically different experiences in libraries, it seems. I find they are rarely lethal. Now, will you let me enter or not?" Harry wanted to interrogate her further, but the front steps were a poor place to have such a conversation. It was clear that she was no threat to him. Stepping inside, he motioned for her to follow.

"We didn't find much at all," she said. "The one thing that is clear is that Romulus didn't find those symbols anywhere near Rome. He spent most of that year traveling the known world. It sounds as if he, too, was searching for something. However, it looks like he found it."

"We already knew that. _Where_ did he find it?" Harry asked urgently.

Valencia frowned. "We don't know. There weren't records of any of the places he went," she said in a mysterious tone. "The best we could find was a set of ancient scrolls which seemed to detail the source of all of the artifacts collected in Rome during its first hundred years. Justinian was having a hard time translating them, so we stole them. He's going to keep working on them, but he thinks it will take weeks to find anything useful."

Harry slumped back into his chair. "So you have no idea where he could have seen it?"

"Somewhere near the Mediterranean Sea seems most likely," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Of course that doesn't mean all that much does it? Most of the Gates were near the Sea."

"So that's it?" he asked. "Another dead end?"

"Yes," she agreed, though a smile and a flicker in her eyes suggested that she didn't find this as discouraging as Harry. "After all of that, we still didn't find anything interesting. However, the fact that we _didn't_ find anything is, in itself, terribly interesting."

Harry was in no mood for riddles and demanded an explanation instead of being forced to wait any longer. Valencia quickly explained that they had practically tripped over the one document they did find. Every other scroll, book and scrap of parchment which might have helped them was missing. There was no record of where they had gone and the old wizard watching over the library was quite disturbed at their disappearance. He even insisted that he had seen a few of the items just days earlier."

"Someone stole them," muttered Harry. "They knew we were about to find them." Valencia nodded.

"We always knew that someone was trying to keep the Jewel hidden," she said, "we didn't know that they are still working to keep it hidden _right now_."

The implication didn't escape Harry. Someone out there knew where the Jewel was, and they knew Harry was close to figuring it out. Looking up, Harry saw an unsettling, hungry look in Valencia's eyes. Things began to make sense. She wasn't interested in the Veils or the Jewel. It was the idea that someone knew where they were that was driving her. Did she know who they were? Was there something else they were hiding that interested her? At the moment, Harry didn't really care. Someone knew where the Jewel was and both he and Valencia wanted to find them.

"We're obviously close, and so is the cloaked wizard. There isn't much time. Someone needs to keep looking," he said quietly, "but not you."

Valencia sat up and glared at Harry. "Why not? I have spent more time scouring libraries across all of Europe and—"

"—And you've found very little," he finished for her. "It's likely they're watching you." Before she could protest, he held up his hand and added: "The same goes for me and everyone else here."

"Then who?"

Harry pulled some parchment from a nearby shelf and began scratching a message into it. "Have you done anything to anger the goblins recently?" he asked, still writing.

She shook her head slowly. "I haven't done anything to make them any friendlier."

"You have a vault there?"

"Yes," she answered slowly.

As he folded up the message, he quickly explained his plan. Valencia would stop off at Gringotts that afternoon and withdraw a sizable amount of gold from her vault. That would require her to actually travel to the vault, and during that time she would deliver the message to the goblins.

"You mean for them to look for this information?" she asked skeptically. "Harry, I don't think that is wise. Goblins may be excellent bankers, but they have no talent at finding information."

"We're not looking for information. We're looking for valuable artifacts. That is precisely what goblins are good at finding. Even if they must search for information, gold is a strong motivator," he replied, "and Grigore Tarus had loads of it. With the right incentive, they may be able to find things before anyone realizes what they're looking for."

It was clear just who _anyone_ was in this case. Valencia still didn't like the idea, but she didn't try to argue. They both knew that there wasn't much time left. Only three of the Veils remained and there was no telling just what might happen after the last of them was destroyed. It was a gamble, but it felt like their best shot. He showed Valencia to the door, climbed the stairs, and dropped into bed.

* * *

After sleeping through all of the day and most of the night, Harry finally awoke to find himself still lying in bed alone. He had done a thorough job of thrashing the covers and there was no telling if Ginny had ever joined him. He chose not to worry about this and simply find something else to occupy his mind.

On his way down to the kitchen, he spotted Ron and Hermione walking up the stairs. Both of them were dressed for bed and froze upon seeing him. As they exchanged looks, Harry felt his stomach tighten as if he were about to be sick. The dark veins had indeed spread up past Hermione's shoulders. To his horror, he could clearly make out a darker patch at the base of her neck which bore a striking resemblance to his own hand. Hermione said nothing. She simply pushed some of her hair forward to cover the mark and continued silently up the stairs. Ron followed after her, neither speaking nor looking at Harry.

Trying to push the incident from his mind, Harry checked to see if there had been any news from Valencia, Justinian or the goblins. There were no new messages and no signs of any owls arriving that day. There was also no sign of Josef. He had no energy to try and track down Josef or even worry about where he'd gotten off to, so he sat down at the table and began gnawing on some stale bread that Ron and Hermione had left on the table.

The next day was barely better than the previous one, the major difference coming from the utter emptiness of the house. Josef had remained there just long enough to tell Harry that Ron and Hermione had left to go to Diagon Alley and Ginny had gone to the Ministry. He left soon after delivering the news, leaving Harry alone, yet again.

The next few days dragged on like some endless chore. He barely saw Ginny and when he did, she never remained in one place long enough for him to talk to her. Ron and Hermione mostly kept to themselves and Hermione had taken to wearing darkly colored scarves tied tightly around her neck to hide the progression of her condition. Of all of them, Josef's behavior was the strangest. He appeared and disappeared at odd times, seemingly alternating between attempts to avoid and comfort Harry. If confronted during those times when he didn't want to talk to Harry, he would become very annoyed and defensive. Harry began to wonder if Josef had lost hope and began to blame him for their complete failure in stopping the cloaked wizard. It didn't make much sense, but it was the only explanation for the melancholy look he would occasionally catch on Josef's face when he didn't know he was being watched.

Everyone seemed down in spirits, and Harry as much as any of the others. It had been almost a week and if Ginny was sleeping, she wasn't doing it in the same room as Harry. Normally, he would talk to Hermione about this, but if their friendship had been strained before, it was now holding on by just a thread and that thread's name was almost certainly Ron. The last thing he needed was to make Ron worry about what Harry had done to his sister as well.

That night, Harry woke up to see the door to his room open and a shadow slipping off into the corridor. It was too tall to be Kreacher and Harry's first thoughts were that it had been Josef, come to tell him some horrible news. The more he sat and stared at the open door, the more he was convinced that it had been Ginny. Running to the door, he looked out into the corridor and found nothing at all.

The next day he decided that something needed to be done. The cloaked wizard had landed a masterful blow, striking at Harry in a way that had disabled him and all his friends at the most critical moment. Harry was certain that it had been planned from the start and he refused to give up after everything his friends had sacrificed. He would fight and the very first battle he needed to fight was for Ginny.

Harry spent the afternoon searching the house for her. Before giving up, he tried a different approach and called for Kreacher. The old house elf reluctantly revealed that Ginny had been locking herself in one of the abandoned bedrooms on the top floor and told him how to find it. As Harry approached it, he remembered that it had once been the hiding place of Buckbeak. She hadn't tried very hard to lock the door, and it sprung open with a flick of Harry's wand.

Ginny was sitting in a dim corner of the room, as if she were trying to avoid any cheer she might have gotten from the beautiful sunset visible through the window. She didn't look up at Harry; her eyes remained locked on the floor between her knees. The only thing that told Harry she even recognized his presence was a subtle, unconscious attempt to brush a lock of hair out of her vision.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

There was a pause. "Yes," she answered, though the tone of her voice disagreed.

"When did you come to bed last night?" he asked. "I didn't remember seeing—"

"I didn't come to bed, Harry," she said with an uncomfortable edge. "I haven't for six nights now. I know you've noticed. Don't insult both of us by claiming that you haven't."

"You need sleep," he told her in a caring voice.

"So does Josef," she replied. "At least he understands why I can't sleep. I would have thought you would, too. You've spent more than your share of nights pacing the floor in the parlor." Her voice softened a little. "I tried— I tried to sleep, but the nightmares are still..."

"The spell—" Harry began, remembering the words the cloaked wizard had said just before Hermione's attack, "—did he finish it, or—"

"No," Ginny answered heavily. "He didn't need to."

Harry could see the haunted look in her eyes. "It wasn't me," he insisted softly. "It wasn't either of us. He made us do it. You know that, don't you?"

Ginny nodded weakly. "Yes."

"He controls people. He manipulates them and makes them do horrible things. No one has—"

"I know," she interrupted.

"He did this to us," he continued, hoping that anger might be able to break through her sadness. "He wanted this to come between us. This is no different than what he did to Josef or Mira. It's just another act of malice and hatred."

Her hands reached up to cover her face. "I understand, Harry, I do, but it doesn't change the fact that—"

"It didn't mean anything," he said, inching closer. "It was never like that with Hermione and me. This was all just a horrible charade. We weren't in control of ourselves. There wasn't any real desire behind it."

"I imagine that's what they told people whose family members were murdered by wizards under the Imperius Curse," Ginny said quietly. "Knowing that the wizard who attacked them didn't really hate them or that they didn't have a choice doesn't really bring anyone back to life or make the pain go away."

Slowly, Harry realized what had truly happened. "This isn't about me at all, is it? He was attacking _you,_" he said.

Ginny nodded but said nothing. Harry noticed her chest rising and falling erratically as she tried to breathe. Harry stepped closer and kneeled down next to her. He finally saw the thing she'd been looking at when he'd walked into the room. It was the circular talisman Justinian gave her, the same one they'd seen in the old book.

"What if—" she began unsteadily, "—what if it's not a coincidence? What if this isn't the first time he's interfered with my life?"

Harry stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The Diary, Harry," she said with a faint sob.

"That was Voldemort," he replied firmly. "He's gone, remember."

"Think about it, Harry," she said. "The cloaked wizard was manipulating Tarus before we helped him escape. What if he had been manipulating Voldemort, too? You saw the picture of those columns in the book, the ones that looked just like the ones in the Chamber of Secrets? What if it was always _him_? What if the Diary came to me because he wanted it to? What if all of this really is my fault?"

Harry grabbed onto her shoulder firmly and twisting it so she would have to look at him. "This isn't your fault," he said. "It can't be."

"I know that," she said, turning away, "but he doesn't. He's convinced that I am the one who betrayed him. What if the Diary was just his first attempt to punish me? What if Voldemort came after you because he knew that I loved you?" She looked down at the talisman and shook her head. "It can't be a coincidence. He's _making_ all of this happen to me. He's taking everything from me, even you."

"That won't happen."

"Won't it?" Ginny shot back. "I bet that's what Josef told Lucy, too. Look what happened to them."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He wanted to tell her that it would be different, that he was stronger than Josef and that nothing in the world could keep him from her, but he knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear. There was nothing she wanted to hear and nothing that would make her feel better. Maybe Josef was right. She didn't need promises or confirmations of things she already knew. Perhaps she just needed more time. At the moment, time was just about the only thing Harry had left. He stood up, making no attempt to comfort her or force her to reciprocate. He gave her a sympathetic smile and simply walked away.

"If there's a way to stop this," he said as he paused at the door, "I will find it." For a moment, Ginny looked up and nodded slowly.

Harry kept his distance for the rest of the day. That night, he went to sleep alone just like he had every night that week. The difference this time was that late that night, well after midnight, Harry felt himself drift awake to sensation of a cold draft on his back. Staying completely still, he felt someone else slipping into bed beside him. He said nothing and did nothing to let her know that he was awake and she didn't try to wake him.

The next morning, she was gone before he awoke. There had been no emotion displayed in the gesture —he might as well have been sharing the bed with Ron— and yet it was still a gesture. It gave Harry a glimpse of hope. Ginny had slept and for once in the last few weeks, he had slept well. If nothing else, it was a step in the right direction.

Harry tried to share this with Josef, but he became almost immediately bored with the subject and informed Harry that he would be leaving for a few days. Feeling somewhat rejected, Harry simply nodded his agreement and wished Josef good luck. Harry had as little interest in Josef's errand as Josef did with Harry's personal life.

The days passed by, slower than Harry wanted and with less news from Josef and Valencia than he might have hoped. Ginny continued to return to the bedroom to sleep and she hadn't be avoiding him as much as she had before, but it was hard not to notice that she was spending more time working at the Ministry. Though he worried that it would make him look paranoid, he went to the _Leaky Cauldron_ one night to see if she was there. She wasn't and it only made him worry more.

He decided to take it one step further and went to the Ministry the next day. Though he had never come in without being summoned, Harrington didn't seem at all surprised to see him. As Harry spoke with him, he tried to keep an eye on the corridor which led to Ginny's office to try and see her. After only a minute, Harrington asked Harry to step into his office where they could speak more privately.

"Things have been... strange around here," he told Harry in faint whisper, as if he suspected even the air might be listening to their conversation. "It's been hard without Cordelia, and I simply don't have time to look for a replacement, but that's really the easiest part to understand." He stepped a little closer to Harry and gave him a knowing look. "You're here about Ginny, aren't you? The tragedy in Italy... there was something more to it wasn't there, something that they haven't even told Reynard and the Minister."

Harry nodded. There was no point in lying to Harrington.

"She's been staying late," Harrington explained, "but I don't know what she's been working on. I haven't given her anything to work on. Her door is locked all the time and she doesn't talk to anyone. I would almost say that she was turning into Evelyn, but Evelyn's behavior has gotten even more strange."

Harry couldn't control his curiosity. "In what way?"

"Sometimes she'll just get up and leave for no reason," said Harrington. "One night I found her standing by the lifts in the Atrium and just staring at the fountain. When I asked the guard, he said that he's seen her do that a couple times already. Other times she'll just ride the lifts for no reason. She's taken the books off her shelves and packed them into crates. She doesn't leave. I haven't seen her eat." Harry could see real concern in Harrington's eyes. "I think she might not have recovered from her ordeal as fully as we thought. I tried calling St. Mungo's but they said without any real symptoms, there's nothing they can do."

"So... there aren't any other symptoms, then?" Harry asked. "Her eyes—"

"—haven't changed," finished Harrington. "I've been watching closely. So has Ginny, by the way."

The two of them talked for a few more minutes and nothing that Harry heard was encouraging. News of Ginny's involvement at both Paris and Rome was making a number of wizards uncomfortable with the thought of working with her during the Quidditch World Cup. With Mrs. Reading gone, this left the British Ministry without any trusted representative from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The Minister —with support from Auguste Reynard, no doubt— saw this as Harrington's failure and had threatened to replace him and everyone working for him.

Losing his job wasn't nearly so worrisome to Harry as the thought of Ginny losing hers and just how long it would take before the _Daily Prophet_ decided it would make an excellent story. The situation was bad enough as it was. He certainly didn't need any help from the _Prophet_.

The situation got unexpectedly worse as Harry opened to door to leave Harrington's office. Standing not three feet away was Ginny, her arms crossed and a frighteningly blank look on her face.

Glaring at Harry, she spoke in a slow, deliberate voice: "Are you delivering a package?"

"No," Harry answered before he could think.

Ginny didn't say anything at all. Her eyes dropped to the floor and her jaw clenched. Harry waited for something to happen, but she just stood there, her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply. When she finally looked up, Harry knew he'd done something wrong. Irritation, pain and anger were swirling in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself then turned abruptly and walked away, rubbing her eyes.

Harry turned to follow her, but Evelyn emerged from the shadows and stepped in his path. The hood of her robes was pulled back, allowing him to see her dull, tangled hair as it hung from her head. Her eye was still scarred and discolored in an unnatural green hue, but it was no longer her most disturbing feature. Her entire face had a drawn, haggard look with sunken cheeks and dark circles around her eyes. Harry shuddered at her resemblance to a younger version of the Azkaban-haunted Bellatrix Lestrange.

"It must hurt to lose the one thing you want," she said in a weak voice. "I wonder just what you would to do get it. What would you give? Would you give yourself? If you got what you wanted, but lost yourself, would you still be happy?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You know something, don't you?"

Evelyn shook her head. "What could I know?" she replied. "I have nothing you want. I am _nothing._ I've been discarded by everyone. There's no point in fighting. There's nothing left anymore."

"That's not true," Harry argued. "The world is filled with all sorts of things that are worth fighting for."

She blinked slowly and gave him a despondent look. "Not the world, _me_. There's nothing left of me."

"No," he replied firmly. "There is always hope. We're fighting him, but we need all the help we can get. If you know something, you have to tell us."

Evelyn shrugged. "There's nothing to tell. There's nothing to do." She turned and began absentmindedly walking down the corridor toward her office. After a few steps she paused. Without turning to look at him, she spoke one last sentence: "Soon, it won't matter."

* * *

The odd exchange with Evelyn only helped to convince Harry that he was running short on time. He struggled to keep in touch with Valencia, Lupin, Josef and Ron. The goblins reported that they were working quite hard to find anything related to the symbol he'd given them, but they refused to tell him where they were looking or just how much success they were having. This frustration was deepened when he finally got a message from Josef telling him that the Aurors working in the Department of Mysteries had been put on alert and ordered to close off several wings.

It was clear that something was going to happen soon, and yet there was absolutely nothing for Harry to do. He tried to warn the Minister, but Scrimgeour told him that the situation was under control and that quite a few people were convinced that Harry's presence was more likely to draw an attack than prevent one.

Two days later, he finally got the message he had been waiting for. The goblins thought they had found something worth looking at, though they failed to say just what that was. Taking this for simple paranoia, Harry sent an owl to Valencia asking her to meet him at Gringotts that evening.

It took him an hour to find Josef, two hours to convince Ron and Hermione to join him, and he spent the next three pacing the house and waiting for Ginny to return from the Ministry. He had become quite paranoid over the last week and though it had become a huge annoyance to her, he was unwilling to leave Ginny alone at any time except the time she spent at the Ministry. Now, with the danger almost palpable, he simply could not let her remain behind at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place while he spent the night at Diagon Alley.

As he expected, she was even more difficult to convince than Ron and Hermione. She tried to argue that the house was far safer than Diagon Alley at night, but Harry refused to back down. Finally, a bargain was struck: she agreed to go to Diagon Alley, but only if she could wait alone at the _Leaky Cauldron_. Harry's first instinct told him that this was an even worse idea, but then he remembered the older wizard she'd befriended there: Aleksey Arkadiev. He had been a member of the Brotherhood and at one time he had been assigned to keep an eye on her. If he was there as often as she said he was, it was safe to assume he'd still protect her. In the end, he decided that it was a far better idea than leaving her just where anyone would expect to find her.

* * *

She had barely walked through the doorway before a boisterous voice called out over the usual din: "_Ginny! Ginny Weasley!_" Cringing as dozens of patrons turned to stare at her, Ginny spotted Albert waving one arm in the middle of the crowd. The other was firmly affixed upon a half-empty bottle of light brown liquid.

Ginny made her way to the table Albert was sitting at and fell into one of the chairs, glaring at him while he smiled back at her. "Thanks, but I think I've had enough publicity for the month," she grumbled. "I was going to try to avoid being noticed."

Albert let out a short laugh. "All the better!" he called out, still speaking far louder than Ginny wished. "Now you'll know how well you're doing. It's so hard to tell if you're doing it right when no one notices you in the first place."

Though horribly flawed, Ginny had no desire to try and argue the merits of his silly ramblings that day. She had other more serious matters on her mind though she didn't know just how to present them to Albert. The table between them, however, provided something else to discuss at least.

Strewn across its top was a truly bizarre collection of items that didn't seem to have any relation to each other. To her left, there was a large stone vase capped with a lid carved to look like a lion's head. Next to it was a small cup made of delicate crystal. The center of the table was cluttered with the glass Albert was drinking from, a small cloth pouch and a ratty old leather shoe. The opposite side of the table held a roll of parchment, a pair of frayed gloves, and a long, glittering silver knife.

"Is there a reason for all of this... stuff?" she asked.

Albert raised his cup, drained it, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, of course," he said. "I had been running short on bizarre items over the past month and decided that I've had quite enough of it. So here we are," he declared triumphantly waving his empty glass over the collection.

"Yes, but what are you going to do with them?" Ginny asked. "Who really needs a worthless old shoe?" she said as she reached for it. A moment before she could grab it, Albert's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"It's probably best you don't touch that," he said firmly. "Some of these are from Knockturn Alley. That's why I bought the gloves," he said with a nod toward them. "You never know what sorts of curses something like that shoe might have on it."

"Normally you'd find out just before you bought it," Ginny commented as she retracted her hand. "At least that's what you'd expect if you were sane."

Albert's eyes narrowed. "And I'm not, am I?" he asked. "I'm just another drunk who's been swindled by some shopkeeper, then? I happen to quite like that shoe."

"Yes, I'm sure you do," she mumbled. "However, if you take a moment to look around, you'll see that you do seem to be the only one here with an old shoe on the table. Seems you've cornered the market on dusty vases as well."

"Now, the vase is different," Albert began. "There's a funny story behind that. At least, there will be... I think. I can't quite remember how it goes, but I'm sure I'll think of it after another glass or two."

Ginny turned away as she rolled her eyes. Perhaps this had been a mistake. She'd always found Albert's peculiarities amusing before, but in her current mood, they were just annoying her. "I'm sure I'll manage without hearing it," she droned.

Albert's head cocked to the side. "Troubles, Ginny?" he asked. "It's the Quidditch World Cup isn't it? You're nervous about the French team? They've been causing quite a stir haven't they? I imagine you're having quite the time trying to fix—"

"It's not that," she interrupted. "I could only wish that was the worst of it."

"Oh really?" he said as he drank another glass and proceeded to fill the small crystal cup and slide it toward Ginny. "More troubling than allegations of cheating in the World Cup? That should make for quite a tale."

Ginny stared down at the small cup for a while. Was it the same drink that Albert always had, or was it simple Firewhisky? With the way Albert was acting, she couldn't really be certain. Of course, she couldn't really say that she wouldn't like to feel as carefree as he was. Taking a deep breath, she raised the cup and drank it all in one go.

Feeling it burn all the way down her throat and into her stomach, she wiped a few tears from her eyes and stared into Albert's eyes. "Have you ever felt like you've lost control of your life and no matter how hard you fight, you end up doing things that you never wanted to do?"

Albert knocked back a fresh glass of his drink and stared directly into her eyes. "Yes," he said in a sober tone. "All the bloody time." Within seconds he had burst out into loud obnoxious laughter which seemed to fill the entire pub.

* * *

"Oh come on, Harry," complained George. "We need an honest opinion."

"And I need to be able to walk and speak without being covered in feathers, or horns or dealing with whatever else that might happen to me the moment I put that in my mouth," Harry replied firmly. He knew this would happen if they went to the shop, but it was the easiest place for them to meet up with Lupin, Tonks and Simon without being watched by a hundred other wizards.

"Try Ron," he suggested, "I think he skipped lunch today."

"Perhaps you missed it when he said we need an _honest_ opinion," Fred mumbled as he rummaged through a nearby cupboard. "Now, Remus is a nice enough wizard, but he's still a professor and a bit boring," he said, nodding politely toward Lupin. "No offense, of course."

With one arm draped across Tonks's shoulders, Lupin returned the nod. "None taken."

"We all know that you're a reliable bloke and fairly entertaining at a party. You're our target market. It's nothing, really, and let's not forget that you still owe us for all the stock you stole from us."

"I more than paid you for all of that," Harry insisted, "and don't even try to argue just how much. The goblins kept meticulous records. We're going to see them soon and I can have them deliver an itemized list of everything they purchased from you and the exorbitant prices they paid."

"No need for that," Fred answered quickly. "What's a few Galleons overpayment between friends? It doesn't really matter in the end. It wasn't really your gold anyway. How about giving it a try as a simple favor?"

"Sorry," Harry said, "we're really just here for a bit longer. I don't have time to wait for anything to wear off."

"There's nothing to wear off," George said, finally emerging from the cupboard holding up what looked like a small, barrel-shaped piece of toffee. "It's just a sweet. No horns or barking or funny vapors." He offered it to Harry.

Harry frowned skeptically. "Right, even so—"

"Don't you trust us?" George asked.

"No," Hermione replied quickly.

"That hurts, you know," Fred said dramatically. "I seem to remember the two of us helping you lot quite a few times," he said. While everyone was sneaking about risking their lives, we sat around here, helping where we could and never demanding that you share any of your secrets. We even closed our shop down so Harry could have a place to hide. You do remember that day, don't you?"

Harry swallowed hard and turned toward the others. Hermione's face was deathly pale and Ron was staring at the floor. Hermione's voice was first to break the silence: "Better than you two do, it seems."

Fred paused to stare at them. "Hold on. What was all that about?"

"It's nothing," Hermione said flatly. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, well that's a relief," George said. "I was worried it might be something odd like fact that Ginny's been spending long hours at the Ministry or that it's the middle of spring and Hermione is still wearing gloves every day."

"And I can't help but wonder if the bruises she's trying to hide under that scarf are the handiwork of our sweet, innocent brother," Fred said. "I'd almost think it looks like she has been sneaking off to snog Grawp, but she doesn't seem the type to cheat on—"

"_It's nothing_," snapped Hermione. If the mood had been awkward before, it was now downright uncomfortable. Fred and George looked at each other, then at everyone else.

"You know," began Fred, "Mum and Dad actually started to invite Mundungus Fletcher to dinner on occasion. I thought it sounded a bit odd, but apparently they have had some interesting discussions with him. I wonder what they'd make of everyone's behavior here..."

"Please, tell them to stop," Harry begged them both. "I really wish I could tell them what's going on, but now is really not a good time for any of them to be curious. Trust me. If we need help, we'll ask for it. Right now, the best thing for everyone to do is to just go about their lives."

George nodded and scratched his head. "We'd like to trust you, but I seem to remember a young boy from my youth. He hated it when people tried to protect him. I wonder what happened to him. Nice bloke. Funny hair. What was his name? Harland? Harper?"

"Harvey?" suggested Fred. "Harvey Gardner? No, that's not quite it—"

"I'll try it," Simon said, stepping forward bravely. "I'll try your new creation. If you can trust us, then I'll trust the two of you."

Still looking rather suspicious, George walked across the room and offered the small sweet to Simon, who took it gingerly and gave Harry an apologetic look. "You don't really need me to go with you," he said. "I can wait here until I... go back to normal."

George rolled his eyes. "Just taste it," he said. "Tell us what you think. And be honest."

With Fred and George only mostly distracted by getting their wish, Harry watched as Simon slowly placed the small confection into his mouth. After a few seconds without growing any new limbs, he slowly bit down. His chewing increased in speed and a satisfied smile spread across his face. Finally opening his eyes to look at the others, Simon swallowed and waited for any bizarre effects.

"Er... I'm not invisible, am I?" he asked.

"No," Ron answered. "You haven't changed any colors either. How do you feel?"

"I feel... fine," Simon said with obvious surprise.

"Of course you do," George said in a slightly disgruntled tone. "As we said, it's just a sweet. It doesn't do anything. The only thing we added was a little sparrow's beak to give a light, cheerful feeling."

"That's all?" Ron asked, sounding disappointed. "It's just a sweet?"

"That's what we said, wasn't it? They're just sweets. Well, all but one of them in the box will be," whispered Fred. "We haven't quite perfected that last one. The Healers at St. Mungo's promised they'd tell us how they fixed it. Until then, Lee is taking a bit of a holiday."

Simon's face paled slightly.

"So, how was it?" George asked.

"I— er—" he stammered. "It looked really nice. Not too exotic but not really plain. The taste was... good. Very light. Sweet, of course, but more complex than expected. It really was... quite nice." Fred and George shared a quick look and nodded appreciatively.

"So, what are they called?" asked Ron.

"We've been thinking of calling them Buttermallows," answered Fred.

"Not bad, I guess," Ron replied with a shrug, "but it's not really the—"

He stopped immediately as an owl fluttered into the shop and landed silently on the table in the middle of the room. Its eyes turned to look directly at Harry and it slowly extended one of its feet. Tied to the end of it was a small scroll of parchment sealed with a large golden _G_. Harry quickly removed the scroll and tapped it with his wand, turning it into ashes instantly.

"Time for us to go," he announced.

"You didn't even read it," George commented. "How do you know what it said?"

"It's just a signal," he replied. "It's from the goblins at Gringotts. They've found whatever it is they were looking for. The parchment probably had directions for making squirrel soup, or the address of a hat maker in Berlin, or nothing at all. Anything but a message that someone might be able to make sense of."

"Right," George said with a nod. "That doesn't sound suspicious at all. I'm sure it's nothing that we would want to know about, right?"

Harry shook his head in response. "I can't imagine why you would."

* * *

"I'm serious," whispered Ginny.

"Oh yes, so am I," Albert replied, stifling his laughter.

Ginny let out a sigh. She hadn't come here to be mocked by Albert. She had hoped —perhaps foolishly— that he would be willing to help her. For once she didn't need to be cheered up. She needed someone to tell her what to do. The cloaked wizard had made himself quite clear during her last encounter: It could all end if she gave him the Jewel. It was something that Harry would never agree to do, but that was mostly because he would never do anything that even felt like helping a dark wizard. Josef, on the other hand, would understand. He'd all but said so already.

In the days she spent alone in the abandoned bedroom, she had begun to question their approach to fighting the cloaked wizard. They had been doing what Harry said, but nothing they did seemed to work. The cloaked wizard was always one step ahead, anticipating every move and turning every advantage against them. Harry's way simply would not work. Slowly, the cloaked wizard was tearing them all apart. Soon there would be nothing left and they'd all die alone, cursing each other for the things they had and hadn't done.

There was another way. Josef had only hinted at it, but Ginny had been thinking about it for days: She could give the cloaked wizard what he wanted, or at least make him think she was going to. At the moment, all she could do is insist she didn't have the Jewel. If she could find it before Harry did, she might be able to use it to buy the time they needed to find a way to stop him permanently. The risk in this plan wasn't lower than their current route. She couldn't let the cloaked wizard actually have the Jewel. That much was clear. She would have to find some way of using it to bargain with the cloaked wizard, but this was more difficult than trying to bargain with the German World Cup team. She had hoped that Albert would be able to help her figure out just how to do it. It appeared that was not going to happen.

"Look, I don't have time for this," Ginny said as she pushed her chair back.

"No, no, stay," Albert urged gently before she could stand up. "I can imagine how you feel, yes," he said, "but I'm afraid it's fairly normal. That sensation you're feeling is life. It's common enough to think you're not in control of your life. It's not the sort of thing you can fix, though."

"That's the thing I don't have a choice about," she replied. "I have to fix it. If I don't, then— I need to fix this."

"There's something else is on your mind, isn't there?" Albert asked Ginny. "Something that reminded you that you're not in complete control. Is it something to do with this business in Italy? I heard some good witches and wizards died there. Did you know them?"

"No, I— I met them, and I—" she stammered. "It's not that. It was horrible but, I— I was hoping you could help me with something. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't have a choice and I don't know who else can help me." Reaching under her hair, she pulled a long chain over her head. Gently setting the black-stoned talisman down in the middle of the odd assortment of items on the table. Albert said nothing, but the slightly playful glint in his eye disappeared.

"You recognize it, don't you?" she whispered. "Why? Where have you seen it?"

Albert's eyes looked up at Ginny as he let go of his bottle to push the talisman back toward her. "Put that away," he ordered her.

"No," she replied defiantly. She wrenched the talisman from him and held it up in front of his eyes. "You knew about the rings. You knew that Josef wanted to help us. If you know about this, I need you to tell me _now._"

"Put— it— away," he said with a stony expression.

"Tell me what it is."

He let out a long sigh. "It is not the sort of thing others should know that you have. The Brotherhood rings were mildly troublesome compared to the peril you face by displaying that object."

Ginny quickly slipped it back into her pocket. "Everyone who has seen it has said that it was worthless."

"And they've been telling you the truth."

"You just said it—"

"I've said that you face great danger by displaying it," he interrupted. "That does not mean that it will have value to those lucky people you have shown it to. Objects have value because they have characteristics or abilities that people can use. Even the finest silk robes are totally worthless to one of the merpeople. No matter how many charms are placed on it, it simply has no purpose."

"If it's dangerous to hold, it must have a purpose and value," Ginny replied. "So, if they said it was worthless, it is not because it has no value at all. It just has no value to _them_." Albert nodded, raising the bottle in his hand with a smile and then refilling her glass. "Who _does_ it have value to?"

"You haven't guessed?" he asked with a meaningful glance.

The implication was clear, but it didn't make sense. "He's seen it," Ginny said. "He knows that I have it. He doesn't want it. I practically gave it to him and he still didn't take it."

"It must not be terribly useful, then," Albert replied.

"You recognized it. You have to have _some_ idea what it does or where it's from."

"The last time I saw that talisman," Albert began, "it was in the hands of a young wizard who was very disappointed by how little the merchants were willing to give him for it. I believe you know him. He works at Hogwarts now. He stopped trying to sell it when a pair of wizards tried to kill him just for having it."

Ginny sat back in her chair and let out a long frustrated sigh. She found herself disappointed at her failure and furious at Justinian —who was obviously the same young wizard Albert had seen trying to sell the talisman— for using her as a way to get rid of something he had nearly been killed for.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Albert said with a warm smile. "I'd like to help, I really would. If you really think it's important to find the owner of this thing, then I will see what I can—"

"I don't care about its owner," she said. "It's something else entirely. I had hoped it would have come from the same place as this."

"I see," the older wizard said with a nod. "Might I suggest an alternate strategy? I usually have better luck when I try to actually look for the think I want to find, rather than other objects which might have been in the area once."

Ginny wasn't really in the mood for jokes at the time and tried to communicate this with a sharp glare. "We've tried," she growled. "It's very old and someone has worked very hard to try and hide it from us."

"Ah, well that's different then," Albert said. "I was starting to think that you were going to have a hard time of it."

"We've been looking for months. There's nothing to find!"

"On the contrary," Albert said with a crooked smile. "You've already said there was plenty to find. And this has been going on for some time? Well, after all this time, it should be easy."

"No," she said in a stronger tone. "There is nothing. They took it all. It's as if every time someone found something useful, it was destroyed."

"Precisely," Albert said as he sat back in his chair. "I remember a story my father told me when I was just a young boy. There once was a very old, very clever, and very dangerous dragon living up in the Ural Mountains. For a hundred years, it had attacked villages, destroyed castles, and murdered travelers across hundreds of miles of land. The wizards of the land had tried to hunt it down and kill it many times, but each time ended in either disappointing failure or a smoking pile of ash."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Does this story have anything to do with my problem?"

"Of course," replied Albert. "One day, the wizards all got together and declared that they had suffered long enough. They pooled all of their gold and offered an enormous reward for the death of this dragon. All manner of wizards from Europe, Asia and even Africa flocked to the region. The idea was that if any of them could simply find the dragon, it could be dealt with. Well, after four months, the dragon still hadn't been found and neither had half the wizards who set out to find it."

Ginny interrupted: "Are you trying to tell me I should stop looking for this thing I'm trying to find?"

"As soon as possible," Albert said cheerily.

Ginny frowned. "That's not possible. I really need to find it."

"Of course you do," he replied. "And you'll find it a lot faster once you stop looking for it."

She shook her head, wondering if the drink had crippled her mind —or his. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Five months after the reward was announced, a pair of wizards found a secluded cave hidden deep in a chasm. They ran back to the nearest village, told everyone what they found and walked out of the town with a fortune in gold."

"Wait—" Ginny said, feeling as if she missed something. "So, they _did_ find the dragon? What was the point of this story, Albert?"

"The point, Ginny," he said softly, "is that those wizards weren't there hunting for a dragon. They were hunting wizards, namely a trio of dark wizards from France who had killed a family living in Marseilles. Instead of poking their heads in every cave and making it obvious they were there to kill a dragon, they were hunting the hunters, and it led them right to the thing the hunters were trying to find."

"I... don't see how that helps me," Ginny said. "I already told you, there's nothing to find."

"There's nothing to find because you're following the trail of someone else," he said with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Keep following the trail. You said someone has been hiding what you're looking for. Instead of looking for this thing, look for everything that's missing. Follow the patterns. Track down the ones who failed before you. Hunt the hunters."

* * *

Harry froze the moment he walked into Grimbok's office. He had been expecting to see Valencia and possibly Josef. He hadn't been prepared to find Justinian waiting for him as well, carrying a large brass cage with a pair of sullen doxies. Neither Valencia nor Josef looked terribly happy about this development, either, but Justinian was oblivious to their annoyance. He gave Harry a respectful nod and pretended as if this made up for the fact that he had been invited.

"Is there a reason he's here?" Harry asked aloud, earning him a disapproving look from Hermione.

"Just doing a bit of shopping in the area," Justinian announced, holding up the cage proudly. "I ran across Valencia and figured I'd follow along, since I have some news for you. I've had some luck with the scroll Valencia and I found."

"And?"

"Er... Romulus did seemingly find something, but the scroll isn't clear on just where. It wasn't Rome and it wasn't Greece. It doesn't seem like it was nearby either. He needed to take a ship."

"Ah, thank you, that's a big help," Harry said sarcastically. "We'll narrow our search down to placed that aren't Rome or any other city in Italy or Greece. That only leaves us with a continent or so to search."

Justinian looked disappointed. "I'll continue working on it," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure I can narrow it down a little further."

"With a little luck, it won't matter after today," Harry said as Grimbok entered the office. His initially hopeful thoughts were dimmed a little at the look of an older, more gnarled goblin following close behind Grimbok.

"Griphook would agree," the older one said. "It is not safe. It is not responsible."

"I don't care what you or Griphook think," replied Grimbok. "This is business and a contract was made."

"You must not do this," the other urged. "You'll doom us all."

"You've found something, then?" interrupted Harry.

"Two things, actually," Grimbok replied with a smile.

Harry glared back at him. "You were told to find me as soon as you found anything. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Grimbok gave a short apologetic bow. "I am sorry, sir," he said, "but one led us directly to the other. You were notified as soon as we realized we had found what you were looking for."

"You found it?" Hermione asked suddenly. "But how—"

Grimbok's eyes flitted over to her, then back to Harry. "I would be happy to tell you, but I'm afraid there is still one matter that must be attended to before then. We have spent quite some time and effort in finding these things and—" he said, glancing at the other goblin, "—it has not been without some risk on our part." He gave Harry a meaningful look.

"Of course," Harry replied. "I believe there are still thirty-four chests in Vault Four-Eight-Three. Pick any four you like."

"I beg your pardon, sir," Grimbok replied, "but when you see what we have found, I'm sure you will be happy to have paid only eight of the chests."

"It only took you two weeks. That is two chests per week and twice what you were paid the last time."

"There was some danger in—" Grimbok began.

"Neither of you are injured," Harry shot back. "Whatever danger there is, it seems you've managed quite well. I'll give you another chest if you promise not to talk about how much danger you were forced to endure."

"Seven—" Grimbok said in response, "—and we will deliver these things to you, along with all the appropriate documentation for the transfer of artifacts."

Harry smiled. They had told the truth. They really had something. "Six," he replied. "You will transfer them to me and destroy the documents."

Grimbok and the other goblin shared a quick look then nodded quickly. Grimbok pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write up a hasty contract. As Harry stepped forward to sign it, he noticed that the number of chests had been left blank. Sensing something strange, he said nothing, and placed the tip of his quill to the blank area to start writing.

"Before you do that, there is another matter you might consider," Grimbok whispered so low Harry could barely hear it himself. "In our search we ran across some other information which you might be very interested in. I can share it with you for an additional six chests."

It took quite a bit of concentration for Harry to keep himself from shouting. At last count, he had at least fifty chests of various coins stolen from Grigore, but he had never paid so much for simple information. Whatever it was they had found, they seemed to think it was important, yet he had not mentioned it until the very last moment.

"One chest, no more," Harry whispered, fearing this was nothing more than a ploy to prize even more gold from one of his vaults.

"Six chests, no less," Grimbok replied firmly. "I am sorry, sir, but on this there can be no negotiation. This falls distinctly outside any of our agreements. I am afraid there is a _competing interest._" As he said this, he looked over Harry's shoulder to where Valencia was standing.

"You mean a competing customer," Harry corrected.

Grimbok nodded. "As you say, sir."

Harry's mind swam with thoughts. What could they have found that would be worth so much to Valencia? Had she found something worth hiding? Or was there something she had simply paid the goblins not to tell Harry? Understanding why Grimbok had waited, Harry saw that he was not trying to swindle Harry, but simply needed a larger pile of gold to convince some other goblin to look the other way. The thought of the goblins being so willing to betray such an agreement was a little disconcerting, but he had to admit that he was terribly interested in what she was trying to hide.

Suddenly, Harry realized that he was still staring at Valencia. Justinian, standing at her side, was glaring back at him with the same defensive aggression he'd shown when they had suspected Valencia of having some connection to the strange events at Hogwarts. Now was clearly no time to confront Valencia again. There would be a better time later, without Justinian and Lupin and Tonks.

"We can finish that discussion later," Harry whispered as he wrote "six" into the empty space on the parchment. He signed it and handed it over to a smiling Grimbok who quickly shoved it into a large drawer in his desk and pulled out a new roll of parchment.

"Mr. Potter," the second goblin said, speaking quickly. "I urge you not to look at the scroll. It is a cursed object."

"Isn't that what you have curse breakers for?" Hermione asked.

The goblin glared at her. "This is no ordinary curse," he croaked. "It does not make you go blind or weak or infect you with some magical plague. To look at this scroll is death."

"How do you know?" asked Harry.

"That is how we found it," replied the goblin. "It was one of the things she told us to look for," he said, pointing a pale finger toward Valencia. "Every witch and wizard, every goblin, centaur and house-elf, has died after looking at it."

"Seriously?" scoffed Ron. "They robbed you, mate. You just gave them a chest of gold because they were afraid of some superstition."

"Like the Grim?" Hermione mumbled.

"No, the Grim's real," Ron replied sourly. "This is just some story some one made up to sell some old scrap of parchment. I'm telling you, Harry, you've been tricked."

"Then perhaps you would like to open it?" Grimbok offered.

"I— I'm not the one who paid for it," he replied quickly. "Doesn't seem right for me to do it."

"I will," Valencia announced. "I don't fear death or superstition." She strode forward, took the scroll from Grimbok and quickly unrolled it. She didn't start on fire or drop to the floor immediately, but the effect was noticeable. Her eyes flitted from one side of the parchment to the other as her face dropped with visible disappointment.

"It seems Ron is correct," she said. "It looks as if you've paid too much, Harry."

She handed the scroll to Harry and began pacing across the floor as the others crowded around him. Harry opened it slowly. For a moment he thought it was going to be completely empty, but the truth was even less satisfying. There was writing on the parchment. It was in wide, sloppy script which had faded somewhat, but the message was clear enough:

_742 _

Harry's disappointment was palpable. This was worse than all the other dead ends they'd found. Not only did this not help them at all, it didn't even seem to suggest they'd been on the right path. This was nothing more than some joke.

"Seven hundred forty-two? That's the message? A number? There better be more to it than this," Harry said in a stern tone. "I paid for more than some stories about some old scroll someone sold you for a laugh."

"Yes, yes there is," Grimbok said quickly. "There is a vault."

"A vault?" repeated Harry. "Where?"

Grimbok smiled. "Right here," he replied, "beneath us, in this very bank."

"Is it vault seven hundred forty-two?" Harry asked, hoping the scroll might still have some meaning.

"No, it is vault seventeen ninety-one," the goblin replied. "I do not know what might be in vault seven hundred forty-two. I'll send Gorlam to find out for you," he said, waving his hand impatiently at the other goblin.

Without waiting for the other goblin to return, Grimbok ushered them all through the door and down the dim corridors to the carts which would take them to the vaults. Piling into a single cart, they all held onto the edges tightly as it shot along the track, steadily spiraling downward to the deepest vaults at Gringotts. As they traveled, Harry felt a sense of familiarity and assumed that they were approaching the place where the Lestrange's vault had been. Within a minute, the scenery became even darker and more foreign, meaning that Harry was now deeper than he'd ever gone before. With a sudden screech and uncomfortable lurch, they came to a stop outside a large, unnumbered door made entirely of polished black stone. There were no dragons guarding it and no sign of any locks or other security measures.

"Do not touch the doors or the walls," Grimbok said sharply. He failed to mention just why they shouldn't but it seemed that it was better to do as he said than risk finding out why. He stepped forward and placed his whole palm on the door. A deep rumbling could be heard and the door began to glow a deep purple. Suddenly, a painfully shrill wail erupted from the door, forcing everyone to clap their hands over their ears. Grimbok quickly put his other palm against the door and the wailing disappeared as the doors cracked open.

The passage inside the doors was actually much narrower than the doorway. With barely enough room for two people to walk side by side, the group opted to walk into the vault single file. Justinian opted to leave his doxies in the cart outside. After navigating the narrow passage for a few minutes, they entered a larger chamber. Grimbok tapped a specific section of the wall and a half dozen torches burst into flame around the room.

Harry gasped in shock at what he saw. Standing in the center of the vault was just more than half of a large stone arch. It looked to have been broken in two, with this piece retaining most of the curved top. Harry stared at it for a moment, uncertain of exactly what it could mean.

"Is it... one of _them?_" asked Ron. "Is it a Veil?"

Harry's first thought was that it was, but the closer he got the more he began to question this conclusion. The inner edge of the arch was worn smooth, but the outer edge was cracked, chipped and irregular. Cautiously, he approached it to get a closer look.

"It's not a Veil," he said, motioning for the others to walk closer. "I think it's an actual arch. It looks like it's been cut from its wall."

"Harry, look," Hermione said, pointing at the very top of the arch. Harry looked up and found a faint carving at the very apex. It was worn by time and weather, but the distinct circular pattern in the shape of a snake could be seen. It was another Ouroboros.

"What is that?" Lupin said as he kneeled down next to the base.

Harry looked down and saw a small slip of parchment lying beneath a layer of dust. Crouching down next to Lupin, Harry reached out and picked up the parchment. Flipping it over, he read the short sentence written on it:

_Mr. Potter: There's still time._

_—__Antonin_

Harry turned to stare at Grimbok. "You're going to tell me how you found this and you're going to do it right now. No contracts, no gold. You're going to tell me because if you don't I'll walk away and when the storm comes, I won't be there to protect you."

Grimbok smiled as if he had been expecting this. "You see, now?" he replied with a croaking laugh. "It would have been worth eight chests, don't you agree?"

"It would be worth ten, and we agreed on six," said Harry. "Now, whose vault is this and how did you find it?"

"We don't know whose vault it is," Grimbok said.

This didn't really make Harry happy at all. "How is that possible? You keep records on every vault."

"We do, yes," the goblin admitted, "but they are gone. Surely you can imagine what might cause that to happen. In this case, the vault has been was paid for in advance —for a period of eight hundred years. There is no name recorded with it. It looks as if it has been passed from one person to the next over the last five hundred years. The last custodian removed everyone from the list and had the records destroyed. I'm afraid we may never know who that is."

"I already know," Harry said, holding up the parchment. "His name is Antonin. When was the last time he was here?"

"Eighteen and a half years," Grimbok answered, "just three weeks after Lord Voldemort's first defeat."

"And no one else has been inside this vault since then?"

"Only me," Grimbok replied in a stiff businesslike manner. "I entered only to see that the vault was not empty."

"How did you find the other scroll, then?" asked Harry, still staring at the parchment.

"On Madam Desmoda's suggestion, we began to spread the rumor that we were interested in buying artifacts with a verified history of being cursed. We found a number of items, this one being one of the items which the owner had attempted to sell many times, to a list of buyers who are now largely deceased. However, the scroll didn't catch our attention because of its past, but because the owner, a dark artifact dealer in Kiev, claimed that he himself had not bought it or found it."

"How did he get it, then?"

"It was given to him anonymously, just over eighteen years ago, when it was mysteriously transferred to one of his vaults here in London. The vault it was transferred from was vault seventeen ninety-one. This vault. My curiosity led me here and as soon as I saw the shape of the Ouroboros, I knew that we had found something you would want to see."

Harry could barely believe the tale. There were so many coincidences and chance discoveries. This time, however, the string of bizarre occurrences did not lead to a dead end. It led to a piece of parchment addressed directly to him. This had been planned. Eighteen years ago, someone knew that he would find the vault. He had the name of a person now, a Russian, by the sound of it, and a dark artifact dealer in Kiev who had mysteriously come by the scroll that led them all there. Perhaps it was more of a coincidence.

"This wizard you bought it from, where is he now?" he asked.

"He is dead," Grimbok replied. "I wanted to bring him here. I assumed you would want to talk to him, but he was killed this morning. It was said that there was some sort of magical accident."

"His name," Harry demanded. "What was his—" Before Harry could finish his question, a piercing shriek echoed through the corridor and into the vault.

"Come quickly," Grimbok urged them as he began to run back to the corridor. "We must leave now."

"Why?" Valencia snapped. "What is happening?"

"Danger," Grimbok shouted over his shoulder. "The bank is in danger. They will close off the vaults. We must go now if you wish to leave tonight!" Harry's thoughts immediately turned to Ginny. Calling to the others, he dashed after Grimbok.

* * *

Ginny tried to get some better explanation from Albert, but he was less helpful —and coherent— than normal and no matter what she asked, he always seemed to wander off topic.

"This is a waste of time," she mumbled as she sat back in defeat.

"Yes," Albert replied with a chuckle. "Yes, it is. You're very observant. Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Ginny didn't answer, but her mind drifted off toward thoughts of Harry. He'd been at Gringotts for some time. The fact that he hadn't returned quickly meant the goblins had probably found something of use. Ginny didn't know if that was good news or not. Each passing day saw her more and more convinced that she needed to find the Jewel before Harry, if only to save him from the cloaked wizard.

She had a real fear that he was looking at the Jewel right at that moment and that she'd already failed, and yet part of her was certain that he was not. This only complicated matters, as Ginny realized that the reason she felt certain was because she had begun to accept the fact that she was the one who was destined to find it. She tried to fight these thoughts, but they always managed to creep back into her dreams. The cloaked wizard was convinced that she was this Angel, the one who had betrayed him, and Ginny found it harder to tell herself that he had to be wrong.

A pair of wizards burst through the door from Diagon Alley. Ginny and quite a few other people turned to watch the commotion. The pair said nothing, just staggered through the tables and then broke into a run and dove out the door onto the Muggle street. As a chorus of muffled laughter spread through the pub, Ginny thought she could hear cheering outside. A number of others heard it too and they stood up to go investigate. The moment one of them opened the door, Ginny managed to hear the sound more clearly. It wasn't cheering, but screaming.

Her jaw dropped in shock as a burst of green light shot from the doorway, piercing the wizard who had opened it and striking a large barrel on the far side of the pub. The barrel exploded, showering everyone nearby in a frothy mist. The wizard at the door simply dropped to the floor.

Within the _Leaky Cauldron_, a dozen wizards leaped to their feet, there wands drawn as they ran toward the door. Others ran for the exit to Muggle London. Before they could even reach the door, a bolt of yellow sparks shot into the pub striking the ceiling above the doorway. It shattered, dropping stone and splintered wood on the panicked customers and blocking the only other way out of the pub.

A second, more powerful explosion shook the floor. Seconds later, a billowing cloud of dust rushed in from Diagon Alley with enough force to knock several wizards off their feet. As haze filled the large hall, panicked voices rang out: "The Apparation point, it's destroyed! We're trapped! There's no way out!"

With her heart pounding in her chest, Ginny stood up and reached for her wand. The smoke had not stopped pouring in from Diagon Alley, and it was getting noticeably darker. A chill ran down her spine as she spotted thick black smoke rolling in across the floor. There was no mistaking it. She knew who was outside the door.

Over the shouts of the wizards around her, she cried out to Albert: "You're in danger," she shouted. "You need to find a way to escape. Find Harry. Tell him what is happening here!"

Albert ignored her. "Is my company so bad that even in an emergency you would prefer him to me?" he asked calmly. "Would he be in any less danger than I am?" As he spoke, his hands were flitting over the objects on the table, almost as if he were trying to decide which of them were most precious to him. He grabbed the knife first, then used it to cut open the small pouch. Looking inside briefly, he set them both down on the table, grabbed the gloves and stuffed them into his pocket.

Turning around, Ginny watched as a wizard in a dark, tattered cloak strode into the _Leaky Cauldron_. He turned toward her almost immediately, his green eyes glowing through the inky fog curling around him.

"Albert!" she growled.

"Oh, look at the time," Albert replied lazily. "I completely forgot that there is someplace else I need to be. I'm very sorry, but I must be off." Distracted by his absurd comment, she looked down to find him staring apologetically at her. "I hope we will meet again, Ginny," he said softly. "This isn't the end. You can escape. There's still time." With that, he reached forward and wrapped his hand around the old shoe in the middle of the table. A second later, he had disappeared, taking the shoe with him. Ginny gasped. It had been a Portkey. Why hadn't he offered to let her escape with him? How could he abandon her like that?

A fresh pair of screams brought her attention back to the cloaked wizard. With a flick of his wrist, the stairs to the second level burst into flames, trapping a pair of witches who were tying to escape, they tried to stop the fire with their wands, but within seconds their screams stopped and they fell, quickly being consumed by the flames.

In response, a pair of wizards lunged forward, firing hexes at him. Neither had any effect. Rushing toward them, the cloaked wizard clutched one wizard's head in his hand and threw him at the second. The two of them struck the wall together and collapsed into a silent heap.

"Who were you talking to, Ginny?" the cloaked wizard called out as he stalked toward her. "Who was that man?"

Ginny stood her ground. "He was no one. Just some drunk wizard who was too cowardly to help a stranger."

"You are lying," he hissed. "_Who was he?_"

"No one," she replied.

The mist around the cloaked wizard twisted into a number of long tentacles which coiled and then struck at a number of the closest witches and wizards. Where the appendages touched them, patches of black spread across their skin. One wizard pulled his wand to fight back and was thrown into a stone wall. The others were less fortunate. The sound of their breaking bones could be heard over their screams as they fell to the floor, the black mist slowly enveloping them.

The cloaked wizard stepped closer, and clutched the neck of a young witch who was cringing atop a nearby chair. "Tell me who he is and what he gave you," the wizard demanded. As he waited for Ginny to respond, he forced the witch to look at Ginny. Slowly, her eyes glazed over. Her breathing slowed down and dark colored blood began to trickle from her mouth. Her hands tried to pry his fingers from her neck, but it was hopeless.

"Tell him what he wants to know," begged a wizard behind her. "He's killing her," another one shouted. "He'll kill us all!"

"He's no one!" Ginny cried. "He didn't give me anything!"

The witch's eyes rolled back into her head and the cloaked wizard let her fall to the ground. Advancing on Ginny, he raised his hand and pointed at a nearby chair. With a flash and a loud _crack_ it shattered. Searing, blazing hot pain sliced into her leg and she felt herself falling to the ground.

Blinking away tears from her eyes, she looked at her leg and found her robes charred and torn away, exposing her leg and a dozen cuts between her hip and ankle. One large splinter was still embedded deeply into her calf. The pain was excruciating. As if through a fog, she heard heavy footsteps approaching and realized she was still clutching her wand. She quickly stuffed it into her pocket. It was no use to her at the moment but she couldn't risk losing it.

"Does he work for the Priest?" the cloaked wizard asked as he towered over her. "Was he sent here to help you?"

"He's got nothing to do with the Priest or the Jewel!" Ginny shouted, tears of pain still streaming down her cheeks.

"Indeed," the wizard growled, picking up the large lion-headed vase. "And what is this, then?"

"It's some old vase he bought," she answered as she tried to pull herself up off the floor using another chair.

This wasn't a suitable answer for the wizard and he raised the vase in one hand and then threw it down onto the table, smashing it. Ginny almost expected another explosion, but instead of fire or shards of clay, she felt a spray of fine grit against her face. When she looked back at the table, she found the wreckage of the vase mixed with a pile of fine sand.

The cloaked wizard let out a feral howl as he reached down to clutch a handful of the sand. "_Is this some sort of joke?_" he roared. "_Do you think this is some game?_" He lunged forward, grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her to her feet. "It seems you still do not understand." With a wave of his arm, brilliant green light filled the room and twenty witches and wizards dropped lifelessly. Before she could recover from the sight of it, he shoved her forward, so that she was bent over the table and forced to look at the pile of sand. "Where is the Jewel?" he spat.

"I don't have it," she replied. "I don't—"

Suddenly, Ginny found her face pressed down against the table with shocking force. She tried to struggle, but it was impossible. Her stomach clenched as she felt a hand pressing against her side then brushing down her ribs to her hips. It disappeared and did the same thing on the other side. The cloaked wizard was searching her for it. What would he do when he didn't find it?

"He gave it to you," he hissed, "or he told you where to find it. There is no more running, Ginny. There is no escape and there is no one to protect you. I will have the Jewel and I will keep you at my side until I have it. End this foolishness. It is too late. You cannot stop me any longer. Give me what I want or for every minute you refuse, I will torture and kill another innocent witch or wizard, starting with her." From her position, all Ginny could see was the small pouch and knife Albert had left and the table they sat on. Though it made her feel selfish, she was thankful for this. It was enough to be able to hear the young woman's whimpers as he spoke to her.

"Have you ever wondered what it was like to feel all your blood draining from your body?" he asked her. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be the one responsible?" A fresh round of cries erupted from the young woman, most of them begging Ginny to tell him what he wanted to know.

"Perhaps you should listen to her, Ginny," he suggested, "If not, I will have her rip out the throat of the handsome wizard who had been sharing her table. After that, she will turn on the others."

Ginny's mind raced. What was she supposed to do? He wouldn't believe the truth and he would quickly discover any lie she tried to tell him. He would end up killing all of them unless she thought of something. The only solution was to escape, but that was impossible.

"Speak quickly, Ginny," prompted the cloaked wizard. "You are running out of time."

_Time._ She needed more time. Suddenly, memories flashed in her mind, unbidden. _You need to escape. There is still time._ Albert had said that before he disappeared. Had he been trying to tell her how to escape? Moments before he said that he had been doing something with the knife. Ginny's eyes squinted focusing on the knife only inches away from her face. The angle made it difficult to get a good look at it and the roaring flames of the fireplace behind it didn't help at all.

_The fireplace._ The knife was pointed directly at it. Directly beside the knife was a small pouch which lay on its side. Ginny stared at it with all her concentration and convinced herself that fine black powder had spilled from it.

_Floo Powder._

Ginny tried to push the screams of the young woman from her mind as she quickly formulated the only plan she could think of. She would only need a moment. If she escaped, maybe the cloaked wizard would leave and let the others live. Their fate could not be any worse than if she stayed. If she did manage to leave, she knew exactly where the cloaked wizard would go and so that was where she would need to go first. If she warned them, they might have a chance. Maybe Harry would figure it out and find his way there to help them.

A piercing shriek echoed in the pub and Ginny's stomach clenched as a new set of shouts joined them: a young man. Ginny didn't want to think about what was about to happen. There was nothing she could have done to stop it. The best she could do was to take advantage of their tragedy to prevent a dozen others. She took a deep breath and waited for the moment of silence that would tell her that her time had come.

"Too late, Ginny," the cloaked wizard said with a mocking laugh.

Ginny felt the pressure on her back lessen as he shoved the creature that had once been a young witch toward her companion. At that moment, Ginny pulled her arm free and lunged for the knife. Her fingers curled around the hilt and she swung her arm back behind her with all her strength. She was rewarded with an abrupt stop and a fierce howl. The pressure on her back disappeared and she was free.

Ignoring the pain in her leg, she pushed herself toward the fireplace, grabbing the Floo Powder in one hand and reaching into her pocket for her wand with the other. She tossed the entire pouch into the flames and pointed her wand at the mantle as she leaped forward into the flames. The stone over the flames shattered and began to crumble just as she tumbled into the fire.

"The Ministry!" she shouted. She caught a brief glimpse of a large black cloud rushing for her, but it spun away an instant later. Pain shot up her leg as fireplace after fireplace slid past her. Finally, one came to a stop and she found herself being thrown through it.

She struck the ground and let out a cry of agony. She was in luck. A pair of Aurors had been standing watch nearby and they rushed to her side immediately.

"Attack," she gasped. "There was an attack... at Diagon Alley. A powerful dark wizard. The same one from Paris."

"Call the others," one of them said. "Tell them to go to Diagon Alley as soon as they can." The other stood up and began to walk off, but Ginny reached out with her hand and clutched at the hem of the man's robes.

"No," she said. "Call them here. He's coming here."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Now, I know that many of you have been asking (begging) for more answers and less mysteries, and here I am, adding a few more. In reality, the mystery is winding down and you know more than you probably realize. Unfortunately, this doesn't apply to that number, 742. That is a true mystery and I am quite confident that no one will figure it out for some time. You might ask why I threw it in then and the answer is that all mysteries have to start somewhere and it was important to start this one in this chapter.

Beyond that, clever people (the literate ones) will guess that the next chapter is going to be one of the more action-based ones. Though we're going there slowly, we really are approaching the end. Things are going to start getting a little more rough and the consequences are going to be more final.


	16. Valencia's Wish

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

**Valencia's Wish**

* * *

Ginny watched as hazy shapes hovered over her. After collapsing on the floor, she found herself getting weaker and weaker. She tried to stay alert, but it was getting harder. She felt cold and tired. It had been so long since she had slept more than a few hours. The temptation to simply slip off to sleep was powerful, and yet, she kept fighting. Only one thought kept her awake: _Harry._ She had to tell Harry about the cloaked wizard. Harry would know what to do. Harry could stop him. He could protect her. As time passed, she began to worry that she wouldn't last long enough to deliver her message.

"Harry..." she said. The sound of her own voice so weak was frightening. "Tell Harry... the wizard—"

"Just relax for now," a soothing voice told her. "They're coming to take you to St. Mungo's."

"No!" she cried out. "No, I've got to— Harry—" She tried to move and sharp pains shot from the end of her leg all the way up her spine. Her fear grew when she realized that she hadn't even cried out.

"What happened to her leg?" a voice asked. Ginny tried to answer, but someone else spoke instead.

"How would I know?" replied a witch's voice. "It's even worse than it looks, though. This is more than just a splinter and a few gashes. A powerful curse put them there. I can't get them to stop bleeding. We need a Healer."

"She said she didn't want to go to St. Mungo's."

"She's delirious."

"She wasn't a minute ago. She said there was an attack at Diagon Alley."

"I guess that's where this happened. I doubt it was much of an attack if she's the only one who knows about it. Who do you suppose _Harry_ is? She's a bit young to be married."

"Harry? You mean Harry Potter?" another voice called out. Ginny forced her eyes open and tried to nod her head. "Bloody hell, she's talking about Harry Potter. That has to be Ginny Weasley. She works for Ferdinand Harrington. That's horrible luck. Someone should tell him."

Ginny nodded again, focusing her energy on breathing and staying awake. Her mind drifted away, only to be pulled back abruptly by the feeling of a cup of warm liquid being placed up to her lips. After swallowing some of it, she felt some warmth returning. She felt her heart pounding and the world didn't feel so distant anymore. Moving was still painful, though.

Looking around, she saw that she had gathered quite a crowd. Most of them were talking too quietly to be heard, but she managed to recognize one. Harrington had finally arrived.

"Where is she?" he asked. "What happened to her?" A dozen voices seemed to answer and she couldn't make out anything helpful. Moments later, a blurry but familiar face shifted into view. "Ginny? It's Ferdinand. What happened?"

"Harry... attack..." she muttered, her vision dimming briefly.

"What? Harry attacked you?"

"No," she replied with as much energy as she could gather. "Tell Harry... the wizard is coming."

"I'll do that," he said. "Don't worry. Just stay still. I'll make sure you get to St. Mungo's."

"No," she insisted again. "No, I... have to find Harry." Harrington gave her a sympathetic look and tried to argue, but Ginny remained firm. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she wasn't safe by herself. Harry would protect her. She looked up at Harrington, struggling to clutch his robes. "I have... to find Harry. I'm in danger."

This was all Harrington needed to hear. Ginny collapsed back onto the floor while Harrington barked orders to those around him. Bottle after bottle was pressed to Ginny's lips and she drank whatever was given to her. A myriad of strange sensations flowed through her, all starting and ending in her injured leg. Slowly, she began feeling more alert.

"Where is Harry?" she asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him. No one has."

"We have to find him. We're in danger," she repeated.

"They know," Harrington said calmly. "For once, they're willing to see what's happening. They're locking down the Ministry."

"No," Ginny said urgently. "No, they can't. If Harry isn't here—" She tried to stand up, but her leg quickly buckled painfully beneath her. "You have to believe me. We have to find Harry. We have to stop them."

"I believe you," he said. Crouching down next to her, Harrington took her arm and gently helped her to her feet. Bracing herself against him, she walked over to where the Minister was talking to a number of Aurors. To Ginny's disgust, Reynard was standing there as well. As she approached, he said the last thing she had wanted to hear.

"We need to disable all of the fireplaces, Minister, immediately. We cannot risk leaving them open a moment longer. They are an open door to whatever threat has struck Diagon Alley."

"You have to," Ginny blurted out as she pushed herself away from Harrington and limped the rest of the way. "Harry is out there. If you close them off now, you lock him out, too."

"A problem which will exist only if we delay in closing them off," Reynard growled. "If we act quickly, we won't need Potter to save us. He has quite enough fame, I'd say. No need to create new situations to bolster his popularity."

Ginny hobbled closer. "You don't understand. The cloaked wizard— He'll find a way in. Harry is the only one who can stop him."

"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley," the Minister apologized, looking rather sincere for once. "I cannot risk the lives of all these people for a single wizard, no matter how famous or talented he might be." The Minister nodded to one of the Aurors who quickly slipped away. Ginny tried to run after him, but her leg was still weak and sore.

"I promise you, Miss Weasley," the Minister said. "You are quite safe here. I don't think your faith in Harry is misplaced and I suspect that his talents will be better used at Diagon Alley than locked safely here."

A number of voices rose over the rest of the noise in the Atrium and Ginny's ears caught someone saying the _Potter_. Ignoring Reynard and the Minister, she walked gingerly toward the small crowd forming near one of the fireplaces. More people were tumbling out onto the polished floor and she felt her heart flutter with hope. Pushing through the wall of spectators, she stopped short.

Harry was standing there, unhurt and staring back at her with a look of profound relief. Her own relief at seeing him alive was no less. Her heart leaped and she prepared to run to him, but at that moment, Hermione rolled out of the fireplace behind him. Harry turned briefly to look at her and Ginny froze. Unbidden, images filled her mind. She saw Hermione standing in her red silk nightgown, holding Harry's lips against her neck. Ginny's stomach tightened and her blood ran cold. When Harry's eyes returned to her, he saw her pain. His face hardened and he took a single step toward her, bringing him close enough to speak to her in private, but keeping his distance. The acknowledgment of the awkwardness between them was almost too much for Ginny.

"There was... some sort of attack," Harry said stiffly. "I wasn't sure— I didn't— Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said.

Harry frowned momentarily. "The goblins closed Gringotts. We took the Floo from there. They wouldn't tell us what was happening, just that there had been an attack."

"And... the others?" Ginny asked, looking about. "

"Lupin, Tonks and the rest stayed behind to try and stop the attack," Harry explained. "When we heard what happened to the _Leaky Cauldron_, I guessed we'd find you here. Valencia thought it might provide some sort of diversion, but since we didn't know why the attack happened, we didn't—"

"He came for me," she announced, trying to hide her emotions. "He thinks I have... _it,_" she said, suddenly wary of everyone nearby.

"And he'll know where you went," Harry replied, rubbing his forehead. "We've put everything he wants in one convenient location."

Ginny felt weak. "Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't even—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "This isn't your fault. We knew it would have to end here. We don't have the Jewel, but neither does he. I'm afraid that's the best we could have ever hoped for. If we have to make a stand, I can't imagine a better time than right now. We might have to do something about all these people, though."

* * *

Harry weaved through the crowd, trying not to think about the anguish he'd seen in Ginny's eyes. It was clear that she hadn't been completely honest with him. One side of her cloak was tattered, she was walking with a limp and whoever had been helping her hadn't yet taken the time to wipe the blood off her shoes. Whatever happened at the _Leaky Cauldron_ had left her with a serious injury. Even more troubling was the pain she felt just seeing him. He knew that was the deeper wound, and one which he hoped was still healing.

Pushing such thoughts aside, he followed a set of familiar voices and slipped past a group of Aurors to find Ferdinand Harrington, Auguste Reynard and Rufus Scrimgeour arguing over something Harry didn't really care to waste his time listening to.

"You need to evacuate the Ministry," he announced over their bickering. All of them immediately stopped talking to look at him. Reynard, frowning sourly at him, was the first to reply.

"I'm sorry, Potter," he replied, "but that isn't the sort of decision our couriers usually make."

"Well, you haven't been making very good decisions lately, so I'm making them for you. A powerful dark wizard is coming here. You have to get everyone out of here."

"Evacuate the Ministry?" Scrigeour muttered. "Preposterous. It's the safest building in all of Britain. If there's danger, then it's the best place for anyone to be."

"Not anymore," replied Harry. "Not now. He's coming and every one of these people are in danger." He turned to look at Harrington. "You know what he can do. He's getting stronger. We can't protect them all."

"You're overreacting, Harry," Scrimgeour said loudly. "The Ministry of Magic has excellent security."

Harry stared back at him in dumbfounded shock. "You can't even count the number of times wizards have broken into the Ministry. A dark wizard got past your security and killed Cordelia Reading just _two weeks_ ago."

The Minister frowned. "Yes, that was very troubling, but I assure you, things are different now. This... wizard won't have such an easy time of it now. The Aurors have set up an impressive array of alarms."

Harry could barely believe what he'd heard. "Alarms? He's coming here for the Veil. None of you even understand how it works or what it is but he can completely destroy it. Alarms are not going to stop him."

"Perhaps not," Reynard replied, "but were he here, they would have warned us already. Since he is not here, all we need to do is see that he cannot arrive, a task that was already well underway before Miss Weasley insisted that we wait for you to arrive."

An Auror strode toward them just as Reynard finished talking. "All the fireplaces are locked," he announced. "Anyone who tries to get in will end up somewhere in Scotland."

"There, you see?" Reynard said condescendingly. "The Ministry is safe."

Hermione stared up at him. "You're wrong," she said in hollow tones. "He's nearby."

"Well it won't do him any good," the Minister said stoutly. "There's no way in. Wherever he is, he can stay there until he rots."

"I think we'll rot before then," Josef replied. "In the mean time, he'll be looking for a Portkey or the name of the secret Floo entrance Marcus Lipton and Reginald Updike made in the Department of Mysteries. It won't take him long to—"

"Marcus Lipton?" interrupted Hermione. "The father of Marius Lipton? The boy who attacked Mira and everyone else?"

Josef's eyes shut tightly and he swore under his breath. "Did you remember to destroy that entrance?" he asked Reynard, who merely returned a blank stare. Josef's shoulders dropped. "Did you ever find it? Did you even know it existed until this moment?"

"He could already be here," Harry announced. "We have to go to the Veil Chamber. That's where he'll be headed."

The Minister held out a hand to stop him. "Hold on, Harry, we don't—"

"We can't risk it," he shouted back. "We're going." He turned to Harrington, who had been waiting nearby. "Reopen the fireplaces and evacuate the Ministry. If we manage to stop him, there's no telling what he might do."

"Hold on," Reynard called out to him. "You'll get yourselves killed just running down there. There are charms and protections."

"That's why you're coming with us!"

Harry didn't know just how Reynard would respond to this, but he did the only thing he could: he kept walking toward the lifts. Taking his lead, Ginny and the others followed. The few people congregating in the Atrium fell away, leaving a clear path to the lifts. As they passed through the security gate, Harry heard footsteps coming up behind him quickly. "You're in a bloody hurry, are you?" Reynard growled as he caught up with them. "Well, you'd better show a little more caution. I wasn't lying when I said there were charms protecting it."

Harry didn't even turn to look at him. He approached the first lift to arrive and stood by the door while everyone else filed in. Reynard was the very last. As he entered, he motioned to a group of Aurors who had been following them. They paused for a moment, then turned toward Harry with questioning expressions. Suppressing a smile, Harry gave them a quick nod and they immediately began walking toward another lift which was just opening.

Harry could feel Reynard's smoldering glare on him as the doors closed and the lift began its slow descent to the level below. Reynard was losing his control over the Ministry. It had never been something that Harry had meant to accomplish, but for all the luck they had recently, every small victory was encouraging. Josef was standing nearby watching the faint smile on Harry's face. His own expression of disapproval was something Harry had seen before on many occasions. No doubt he disliked the fact that Harry was interfering in Ministry politics. Harry quickly decided that he didn't care. Josef had no problem interfering in Ministry politics when he had been trying to keep Ginny safe while looking for Harry.

A voice in the lift announced that they had arrived at the Department of Mysteries. Harry stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors opened and waited impatiently for the others to follow. Another lift opened next to them, revealing the Aurors who had followed them.

"Stay here," Harry ordered, and to his surprise, they seemed to listen. The oldest one even asked if there was anything they should do while they wait. Harry took a moment to think. "Make sure these two lifts are waiting for us. Warn us if anything strange happens, and can you make sure no other lifts come down to this level?"

Receiving a professional nod, Harry turned and led the others down the corridor toward the solitary door at the other end. This was something that he had far too many memories of. It felt surreal to be walking down this corridor once again. Every time he had done it, something horrible had happened. A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him that he would be exceptionally lucky if this time was no worse than seeing Ginny nearly killed.

Harry reached the end of the corridor, threw open the door, and peered into the large circular room on the other side. As always, it was lined with dozens of unmarked doors. He glanced back at Reynard. "We don't have time for this," he said sharply.

"Yes, of course," muttered Reynard as he walked forward. "Keep that door open," he said as he raised his wand to point at the very center of the ceiling.

"_Exturbinis!_" he shouted. A faint rumbling could be heard. When it stopped, Reynard ushered all of them into the room.

"Alright, now which door is it?" Harry asked, glancing around the room. Reynard frowned and pointed at one off to the right. Harry immediately walked toward it.

"No!" Reynard called out. "Stay back and don't touch it! There might still be a trap." He rushed forward, fumbling through his pockets.

Harry gladly stood back and waited as Reynard stepped forward to open the door. It took some time, requiring Reynard to use two different keys and his wand to unlock it. When he was done, he gestured for Harry to enter, but Harry decided it was best to let Reynard go first. As he pushed the door open, Harry didn't know which was more likely, that the cloaked wizard would be waiting to ambush them, or that Reynard would be.

The doors swung open, revealing nothing but the deep black of an empty room. Reynard paused just inside the door and turned back toward the others with a strange look on his face. With a wave of his wand, torches flickered to life around the chamber. The silence was troubling. Harry walked into the room, fearing the worst.

The Veil stood in the center of the room intact and unharmed. The room was quiet. The other door was barred with a huge stone block. As the others began to file in, Harry cautiously walked along the rows of benches, circling the Veil and making certain the cloaked wizard was not lurking behind it as he had before. Ron and Hermione remained near the door, watching for any sign from the other Aurors while the rest of them spread out and looked around the chamber for anything that might help them understand what was happening.

"This place is totally empty," Ron announced, as if it needed to be said. "He's always been waiting for us. Did we actually get here before he did? What does that mean?"

"It means that Potter was wrong," replied Reynard. "You've been tricked again. Your dark lord isn't here. There have been no alarms. No guards have gone missing. There isn't even so much as a ripple on the Veil. You—" He stopped in the middle of his sentence, and stared at the Veil below him. Descending the steps slowly, he stepped onto the raised platform and cautiously approached the Veil.

"It's completely quiet," he announced. He spun around to glare at Harry. "What have you done to it? Where are the voices?"

"The voices were the cloaked wizard," Harry tried to explain.

"I— Are you sure, Harry?" Ginny asked weakly. "When I looked into the Veil in Romania, I heard the voices _before_ the wizard appeared. I thought they were trying to warn me about him."

"Maybe they are the voices of the people he killed. Maybe they are just part of him," he suggested. However, even he had trouble believing that. Ginny was right. They _felt_ distinct. The cloaked wizard had been trying to distance himself from them, as if they were some threat to him.

"Could we be in the wrong place?" asked Harry. "Was the attack at Diagon Alley a distraction for some other purpose?"

"It is possible," Josef commented as he began to walk closer to the Veil. "Perhaps there is another Veil, one which we've never even heard about. If this one is quiet, perhaps it is because the other is under attack right now."

"No, we're in the right place," Hermione said. The look in her eyes was enough to tell him just how certain she was. "The voices are there. We just can't hear them. Something is keeping them quiet."

At once, they understood what was happening. Reynard had opened all the doors and disabled all the charms and traps protecting the room. Now it was completely unprotected.

"Ron! Hermione! Signal the Aurors. Have them lock lock all the doors and set up new alarms!" he ordered them.

Ron replied with a stern nod and turned toward the door. He managed to take just two steps before Hermione had leaped after him. Clutching at his cloak, she stopped him and pulled him back. The scuffling of Ron's feet was enough to catch Harry's attention and he spun around to see what had happened.

Standing in the doorway was the figure of a cloaked man with a pair of glowing green eyes staring at them all from under a hood. He walked casually into the chamber, paying no attention to Ron or Hermione. As he walked, he pulled back his hood to reveal a pale face and surrounded by long, messy strands of dark hair. Harry's first thoughts were that of an older Tom Riddle, but there was something odd about his appearance. Though he didn't appear old, there was a certain worn look about him, not unlike the one Sirius had after he first escaped from Azkaban. If this was a disguise, why had he chosen such a person? If not, could it be that they were looking at the cloaked wizard as he had once been. As he turned to look down at the Veil, Harry could not deny the familiarity of his face. Flashes of visions and dreams long forgotten rushed to his mind. It was the face which had been haunting him for over a year.

The cloaked wizard continued on his path toward the Veil, oblivious to Harry's revelation. Everyone seemed frozen, unable to think of just what to do. Harry had been focusing so much on how to get to the Veil, that he hadn't really put much thought into what to do once he succeeded.

"Not yet, Harry," Josef whispered from behind him. "You'll only have one chance at this."

"You mean _we_ will only have one chance?" Harry corrected him.

"This is no time to be humble, Harry," he said even quieter. "We both know that you are the more powerful wizard. I can't stop him, but you can. No one but you can."

As the cloaked wizard passed them, he cast a sidelong glance at Harry. From the upper levels of the chamber, Ron and Hermione were watching Harry with looks of horror. Despite Josef's advice, he knew the same question going through his mind was going through theirs: _Why wasn't he doing anything?_"

Harry's scar tingled and for a moment, he thought he could almost hear the cloaked wizard's laughter in his mind. Harry felt Ginny's eyes on him, but he refused to meet her gaze. He felt empty and useless. He knew of no spells that might stop the cloaked wizard. The Killing Curse might work for a moment, but he knew it wouldn't be permanent, the the wizard would only return angrier. Still, despite logic, Harry felt like a coward. Only Reynard still had his wand raised in defiance. If Reynard was willing to fight, why wasn't he?"

The cloaked wizard reached the last step. Now only a short distance away, Reynard lowered his wand and the cloaked wizard began circling him, his eyes glowing and black mist rolling out from under his cloak. "You dare raise your wand against me?" he snarled. "Tell me why I should not throw you through the Gate."

"I am not your enemy," Reynard announced, his voice trembling slightly. "I have been useful, haven't I? I've done what I could. I've played my part, just as you told me."

The cloaked wizard stopped inches away from him. "You have done exactly as I expected," he growled. "You played the role I gave you with plausible ineptitude, accomplishing the meager tasks with a clumsiness one might expect of such a corrupt wizard."

"They never suspected my true intent," Reynard replied in strained tones.

"No, of course not," the wizard replied with a smile. "You gave them just what they expected. Your lust for petty political power was an effective mask, hiding the true measure of your selfish ambition. They could not see the cowardice you wrapped in your willingness to betray everyone in your path. Decent wizards have difficulty believing that creatures like you even exist. Your treachery knows no limits and I shall repay you in kind."

Reynard had only the briefest of moments to stare into the wizard's eyes until a pair of sharp, cracking noises split the air. Reynard's jaw dropped open and he fell to his knees, screaming in pain. The black smoke which surrounded the cloaked wizard appeared to have wrapped itself around Reynard's legs and it was slowly pulling him toward the Veil.

"What— Why?" he cried in agony. "I've done everything— I tried to serve you—"

"Yes, and Harry, too," the wizard added, "and your Ministry, but none so much as you served yourself." He flicked his wrist and Reynard was tugged through the Veil, his screams reaching a frightening volume before being cut short.

"Why are you here, I wonder?" the cloaked wizard said as he began walking along the very edge of the platform. "What did you hope to accomplish, Harry? Did you think this would end differently than any of your other attempts? Was it worth seeing that traitorous worm die?"

Harry refused to respond. There was nothing to say. He hadn't come there to play games with dark wizards.

"I am afraid this adventure has come to an end, Harry," he called out mockingly. "You cannot stop me. You know this now. Reynard had quite the trap set. He was very clever and understood far more than he shared. He might have been been able to hold me for some time, but he couldn't risk having you spring his trap early. You have done your job as well as I expected and for that, I must thank you. For the moment, I have no more need of you. You should leave now."

"No," Harry replied stoutly. "I will stop you."

"No, Harry, you will not," the cloaked wizard replied flatly. "You cannot. You cannot even comprehend what that might mean. No amount of luck or power can defeat me."

Harry gripped his wand, but kept his arm at his side. "You were defeated once," he said.

The wizard nodded slightly. "A regrettable situation which is already being remedied. This is beyond you, Harry. Walk away. Soon, I will be unstoppable. You have run out of time. You have lost, Harry."

Without waiting for a response from Harry, he turned and stepped onto the platform. Harry's mind raced. If he was supposed to wait for the right time, it had to be soon. There simply wasn't time for any more chances. His eyes scanned the chamber, looking for something to help him. Magic was no good. Only physical force worked. He had nearly defeated the wizard at the Veil on the island, but it was unlikely to work as well a second time. He was probably already expecting that. He needed to think of something different, but there were only so many possibilities in a chamber made entirely of stone.

The cloaked wizard stepped onto the platform. There was no golden ring here to help him. He wondered for a moment whether that was really true. Perhaps the ring had merely been covered with other stones to hide its presence. If only he had more time, he could have ripped apart the platform in hopes of finding one. Then it struck him. Perhaps it could work. There wasn't much time, but it was all he had. Harry took a deep breath, tightened his grip on his wand and concentrated as hard as he could. The cloaked wizard was only seconds away from the Veil. He would only have one chance.

"Harry, _now_!" hissed Josef, as he raised his wand and fired a burst of yellow sparks toward the cloaked wizard.

The attack was weak and harmless, but it caught the cloaked wizard's attention and prompted him to react. He spun around, firing a bolt of green light toward Josef, missing by only inches. Harry got the chance he needed. He raised his wand and focused all his concentration on the stones under the wizard's feet.

With an echoing rumble, the stone shattered and heaved upward, throwing the cloaked wizard off balance and onto the floor at the foot of the arch. Harry flicked his wand and the stones thrust upward again. The cloaked wizard tried to roll away, stopping just inches from the Veil. Harry concentrated one last time, focusing on the stone at the base of the Veil. All it would take was one last shove and everything would be over.

Suddenly, a blinding streak of crimson light burst from behind the stones jutting out of the platform. Harry forced himself to ignore it. The hex had been poorly aimed and wouldn't hit anywhere near him. Then, a scream split the air followed by the dull thud of a body falling on stone. Fear coursed through him, and when he flicked his wand again, nothing happened. His heart was pounding. He tried again. There was a low rumble, but all he managed to do was shift a few stones by a couple inches. The cloaked wizard climbed back onto his feet, his dark hair swaying as his laugh filled the chamber. With a wide sweeping motion of his arm, the upthrust stone shattered and sprayed across the floor.

_He had failed._

Harry did the only thing he could find that meant anything to him anymore. He ran to Ginny. If she was dead, then there was no point in trying to escape. He might as well throw himself into the Veil and hope to take the cloaked wizard with him. If she was still alive, then perhaps they still might find some way to fight their way free.

* * *

Ginny's body throbbed with pain, but she could still feel her heart pounding. She was still alive. The curse that hit her had been as powerful as anything she had ever experienced, but for all she could tell, it hadn't had any effect. She stared down at the cloak she was wearing. The spot where the curse has struck her was hot to the touch and the fabric was ripped and fraying, but she was unhurt. Harry refused to believe this and had called for Lupin as he quickly searched for some sign of injury. Josef rushed over to her side as well and tried to pull Ginny to her feet.

Through the crowd around her, Ginny watched as the cloaked wizard broke free and wrapped his hands around the nearest post of the arch. Cracks began to spread through the stone, crawling up around the top and back down the other side. As they filled the entire arch, they began to pulse with a green light. Ginny remembered watching this happen before, on the island in the Black Sea, only this time it was happening much faster.

"Harry," she called out. "Harry, we have to go."

Almost at once, Harry and Josef turned to look toward the cloaked wizard. A dark cloud of black mist had formed and it was beginning to swirl about the wizard and the Veil as rays of green light shot out of the stone arch. The Veil began to flap wildly and Ginny could hear a strange noise in her mind, like the distant cries of a thousand people. They were calling out to her, pleading with her to do what needed to be done, no matter how much it might hurt her.

"Run!" Harry shouted. "Go! Now!"

Pulling her to her feet, Harry dragged Ginny up the steps behind Ron and Hermione. Josef was held the door for all of them as they dashed through, letting it close just as Harry and Ginny slipped through. Josef stayed behind to cast a quick charm on the door, urging the others to run to the lifts.

With Harry at her side, Ginny ran as quickly as she could to keep up. She attributed her surprising ability to the paralyzing fear she felt knowing that they had failed to protect the very last of the Veils. There was no way to stop the cloaked wizard now. She knew she had to run, but couldn't help thinking that there was some measure of futility in the act.

By the time they made it to the lifts, Josef was right behind them. They leaped over the dead bodies of the Aurors who had stayed behind and into the empty lift which was still waiting for them. After sprinting there, they were forced to wait impatiently as the door closed and the lift began moving. As they rose, Ginny felt the whole lift shudder then lurch beneath her as a deep _boom_ echoed through the shaft. They were all shaken and tense, but the lift continued moving, giving them enough confidence to continue on.

The door of the lift clattered open and everyone spilled out into the wide chamber just off the Atrium. It was cluttered with panicked witches and wizards, all of them trying to escape as quickly as they could. Standing next to the gate and attempting to guide and control the mob was Ferdinand Harrington. With his wand held to his throat he was talking over the noise of the crowd.

"Quickly, quickly. No, Apparation won't work," he called. "You'll need to use the Floo. Don't worry, the Aurors have plenty of Floo Powder."

Another lift opened nearby and a new group charged right for them. A pair of strong hands took a hold of her shoulders and pulled her out their way while gently guiding her forward through the bustling crowd. Looking back over her shoulder, she was surprised to see that it was Josef who had come to her aid, not Harry. Harry had paused just long enough to see where she was before pushing forward to shout at Harrington.

"Get them all out of here and shut down the lifts," she heard him yell. Harrington lowered his wand and shouted a response Ginny couldn't quite hear. "Send them back up," replied Harry. "Send them all to the first level. There's no time."

Ginny knew that, though it was the truth and there was no other way of saying it, this was the last thing a crowd of worried witches and wizards would want to hear. A chorus of shrieks filled the small space as a handful of Aurors struggled against the flow to try and reach the lifts to send them back up to safety. The floor trembled again, bringing even greater urgency to those still on the wrong side of the security gate.

"Keep close, Ginny," Josef spoke into her ear. "Don't panic. We need to slow him down a little." One of Josef's hands disappeared and Ginny found herself feeling a little less safe. A second later, sound and light exploded from just behind her. Her ears ringing and filled with the screams of those around her, she tried to run away, but came to an abrupt stop as Josef's hand gripped her shoulder painfully. Turning back, she found him still pointing his wand at the smoking ruins of the lift they had just left. Satisfied, he pocketed his wand, returned his hand to Ginny's shoulder, and began leading her and the others toward the Atrium.

A pair of Aurors disabled two more lifts nearby, then quickly ducked into a third just before it began its ascent to the upper levels of the Ministry. Ron and Hermione were a little ways ahead, while Harry had walked to the very back, where Ginny and Josef were encouraging everyone to move as quickly as they could. As they approached the gate, Harrington's eyes opened wide and he pointed toward the back of the chamber. Ginny, Harry and Josef turned and saw the first wisps of dark, swirling smoke spilling across the floor and crawling up the walls near the ruined lift.

"He's coming," Harry whispered. "How long will it take to get them all out of here?"

Harrington looked at the mass of people lined up at the fireplaces. "Not long. A minute or two, if everything goes smoothly."

"We don't have that much time," Harry said. Ginny felt his hand close around hers and despite everything that had happened, she couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed and safe. He pulled her through the gate and into the center of the Atrium, leaving Josef behind to help Justinian guide the last of the crowd toward the fireplaces.

The harsh squeal of twisting metal echoed through the Atrium, and Ginny watched as the lift Josef had disabled was slowly enveloped in thick, impenetrable vapor. More harsh, metallic noises drifted from the darkness and though she couldn't see anything at all, she imagined the lift being slowly ripped apart as the cloaked wizard forced his way through it.

"Harry!" Lupin shouted. "Someone is still over there!"

Even as he spoke, Ginny spotted the shape of someone huddled in the corner of the chamber. Harry broke into a run, and Ginny followed close behind him. To right, she saw Josef and Ron sprinting toward the gate while shouting for Harry and Ginny to stay back. Another sharp ringing sound reminded them of just how close the cloaked wizard was.

"Come on!" Harry shouted as he approached the gate. "You can't stay there. You're in danger!" Harry slowed to a halt as the crouched figure leaned forward, stood up and slowly walked to the gate.

It was Evelyn. Her eyes met Ginny's and they stood there staring at each other for a few seconds. There was something deeply troubling about her gaze. There was no fear in it. There was no emotion at all.

"Evelyn, there isn't much time," Harry said in a slow, commanding voice. "You need to come with us."

"I'd rather not," she replied flatly. "Ginevra and I don't get on well. Haven't you heard? I assumed that Ferdinand would have told you. In any case, Ginevra is safe and I suppose that is all you really care about."

"Evelyn," Ginny called, trying to keep her voice even, "this isn't the time for arguments. This isn't about me."

Evelyn's head cocked to the side slightly and her eyes narrowed. "Oh, but it is, _Ginny_," she sneered. "That is precisely what this is about. It's you he wants," she said, looking over her shoulder at the growing wall of black mist. "You're all he ever wanted, but you turned him away and now all that's left is his hatred."

"There's _no time!_" Harry shouted. "You have to run, now!"

Her arms hung limply at her sides as she stared down at the floor lethargically. "Why?" she asked in a dull voice.

"The cloaked wizard—" he said, "—the thing that made you attack me, it's coming and it's angry."

"I know," Evelyn answered with flat acceptance. There was no fear at all in her voice, only sadness.

"Evelyn," he said, trying to sound a little more comforting, "I can't stop it this time. You need to run. I can't save you."

"I don't want you to."

"You don't understand," he shouted. "He wants to destroy the world!"

Evelyn's head jerked up and she scowled at Harry, glaring at him with one emerald green eye. "Why would I care, Harry?" she yelled. "The world is already destroyed. Everything I wanted _she_ took from me. She shattered every one of my hopes and stole every dream I had. There's nothing left here for me, not even my hatred. If he's here to finish the job, then who am I to stand in his way?"

A giant plume of oily black vapor poured from the far end of the chamber, sending waves of it out past the gate. Dark, vaporous tentacles flailed around an invisible center, ripping stone from the walls thrashing the floor. Beside her, Ginny saw Harry's jaw tense as he reached up to rub the scar on his forehead. Behind them, dozens of witches and wizards were still huddled near the fireplaces waiting to escape. When she turned back toward Evelyn, she saw a pair of the dark tentacles shoot forward and wrap around the golden grates flanking Evelyn. Without any effort, they quickly tore the metalwork from the walls, tossing them against the back wall.

Evelyn winced at the violence of it, but refused to move. Her eyes shifted slightly and locked on Ginny. "If I can't have Harry, I'll do everything I can to see that you can't have him either."

"No, Evelyn," Harry shouted as the dark mist swirled around her legs. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I don't care," she said with a hollow look on her eyes. "For months I haven't felt anything. Even pain would be a welcome sensation. Maybe if I know that she's hurting too, I might be able to find some happiness before—"

Her voice was cut short with a soft gurgle as a tendril of black smoke passed right through her chest. Her eyes opened wide, blinking in terror and agony as dark blood dribbled out of her mouth. Her left eye glowed bright green as the mist surrounded her.

The cloaked wizard strode out of mist even as the muffled sound of breaking bones and anguished screams echoed in the chamber behind him. "Where is the Jewel?" he asked stiffly, paying absolutely no attention to Evelyn.

Harry stepped forward defiantly. "We'll never—" He didn't manage to finish his sentence. With a sweeping gesture, the cloaked wizard tossed Harry backward onto the wooden floor.

"Where is it?" the cloaked wizard asked again, looking directly at Ginny. "The wizard at the pub. He gave it to you or told you how to find it. Tell me now or your friends' deaths will be long and painful."

Ginny was about to deny this again, when an idea struck her. The cloaked wizard was convinced that she knew where the Jewel was. This was no different than his insistence that she had been the one to betray him. Nothing she could say would convince him otherwise. It didn't matter if she actually had the Jewel or not. He believed she did, and that was all she really needed in order to bargain with him.

"It's not here," she told him in a proud voice.

The sudden change in strategy made him even more focused. "Where is it?" he demanded. "You cannot keep it from me."

"I won't tell you."

"Oh, I think you will," he snarled.

Ginny refused to back down. They needed time to escape and that would take more than a promise of a quick and painless death. "I'll never tell you, no matter who you kill," she told him, hoping that he'd get the message that she wouldn't allow him to harm Harry and her friends. He didn't respond well at all.

"Tell me where it is, you deceitful whore!" he bellowed. "I will not face oblivion for you!"

Ginny's felt a smile spreading across her face. "So you're not as invincible as you wanted us to believe," she said. "You still fear the Jewel. From the very start, it was all we needed to stop you. You didn't want us to know. You hoped you would be able to find it and destroy it before we realized just how powerful it was."

"Destroy it?" the cloaked wizard laughed, his lips curling into a frightening and much more genuine smile. "My dear, Ginny. It is already broken and beyond repair. Since you didn't know that, I can assume that you haven't seen it. And yet, I am still convinced that you know how to find it." He stepped through the gateway and into the Atrium where he began to pace casually while keeping his eyes locked on Ginny.

Ginny saw Harrington help Harry to his feet. As he did, he slipped a small pouch into Harry's hand. Harry's eyes met hers for a brief instant, then immediately darted toward the bank of fireplaces along the wall near them. Ginny suddenly understood what the pouch had been. The Aurors had put an Anti-Apparation charm on the Atrium. They would need to take the Floo again. She looked away as soon as she could and found the cloaked wizard staring strangely at her. For a moment, she feared he had seen the silent message Harry sent her. If he had, it obviously didn't concern him.

"You know where the Jewel is, but have not seen it," the cloaked wizard continued, his gaze now alternating between Harry and Ginny. "Somehow, you knew what was happening, yet you were alone. I find myself wondering: Where was Harry? Surely he would not let you wander far from his side, unless he knew I was watching you and sent you away as a distraction."

Dark fumes began rolling off his cloak. He raised his hand and it began to glow with an eerie green light. "Where was Harry, Ginny?" he asked sharply. "He was nearby. He must have been. He arrived here far too quickly. Tell me where he put the Jewel and I will let your friends live."

"Never," she replied defiantly. Harry stepped closer to her and secretly reached out to tug on the side of her cloak nearest to the fireplace.

"This is foolish, Ginny," the cloaked wizard said. "There are only so many possibilities. I will find it. Diagon Alley is only so large. Tell me or I will kill every living thing, destroy every shop, burn every house and shatter every cellar and vault until—" He paused suddenly and grinned. "The vaults... He went to the goblins," he said with a hissing laugh. "He always has been quite fond of their services."

He began walking toward the closest fireplace, ignoring the witches and wizards huddled together near the fountain. With a wave of his hand, the flames flared green. "I really must go speak to these goblins at Gringotts. I am certain they will be most helpful." He stepped into the flames and simply disappeared, leaving only a few curling wisps of black smoke.

* * *

Harry stared into the empty spot where the cloaked wizard had stood just a moment ago. He was going to Gringotts. Harry felt his stomach sink.

"We have to follow him," he announced.

Ginny looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "What? Why? Did you find the Jewel there?"

Harry's thoughts returned to the odd stone archway, the note, and the scroll. None of them had made any sense to him, but perhaps the cloaked wizard would have an easier time of it. To make matters worse, he had left Lupin, Tonks and the others there. They wouldn't see the danger they were in until it was too late. He didn't waste any time trying to explain it to the others. With the pouch Harrington gave him in one hand and Ginny's arm in the other, he walked toward the bank of fireplaces. He emptied the pouch into the flames, then stepped into the fireplace and held Ginny tight against him as he shouted his destination:

"Gringotts Bank!"

The Ministry disappeared in a whirling blur of darkened grates. The trip from the Ministry to Gringotts was one that Harry had taken many times, and he knew precisely how long it took. After just a few seconds, he prepared to tumble out of the fireplace in the main lobby. Instead, he saw a blinding flash of orange light and felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. There was no time to question the sensation as it was quickly replaced by a number of sharp pains in his shoulder and legs.

Ginny landed on top of him and as soon as she realized this, she pushed herself up as if being that close to him were painful. Harry sat up a moment later and blinked his eyes at the dim shapes around him.

"This isn't Gringotts," Ginny announced. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and she had backed herself against the wall. She wasn't even looking at Harry. He began to think that it really had hurt her to be near him. The thought itself made him feel cold and tired.

Ron and Hermione rolled out of the fireplace next. Ron immediately drew his wand, but lowered it as he peered at his surroundings. Josef was next and told them he would be the last. The few remaining Aurors had refused to abandon the Ministry.

"Where are we?" Ron asked, as he stepped toward a set of broken shelves covered in cobwebs. "This doesn't look familiar at all."

"It does to me," said Hermione.

"This is Borgin and Burkes," announced Harry, "or what's left of it."

Ron recoiled in disgust. "Why are we here?"

"I think the fireplace at Gringotts was destroyed."

They took no time to talk about plans or ideas. For once, even Josef agreed that speed was the only thing that mattered. They moved as quickly as they could, but not even Knockturn Alley had escaped the cloaked wizard's initial assault. Dead bodies cluttered the street and broken debris from carts and broken storefronts was littered everywhere, making all attempts to move quickly futile.

Diagon Alley was no better. A number of lamps were undamaged and lit, providing enough light to ensure that they would not be forced to imagine how violent the attack had been. They wove through the streets, wands drawn, ready for whatever dangers might be waiting for them. Almost before they realized it, they were approaching Gringotts Bank.

Harry froze suddenly as shadows shifted not far ahead. Though he couldn't think of what he'd do with it, he drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the flitting shape he'd spotted. The others pulled their wands and spread out, slowly walking toward the strange movement.

"Harry?" a voice called out. It sounded like Lupin. A second later, a dark silhouette appeared against the flickering of a distant lamp.

Still wary, Harry kept his wand trained on the shape. "Where are the others?" he asked. "Where are Tonks and Simon?"

"Over here," Tonks announced. Harry spun and found the two Aurors crouched in front of an empty storefront. Josef already had his wand pointed at them.

"It's really them," Valencia announced as she strode calmly into the street. "That is Harry. I'm certain of it."

Lupin stepped out a moment later, followed by Justinian. Tonks and Simon joined them from across the street. Harry was relieved to find them all there, but he hadn't forgotten the other reason they'd come back. Only feeding into his fears, Lupin told them that they had left Gringotts some time ago, but started to return when they heard new sounds coming from that direction. Without waiting for any more news, Harry pressed them to go to the bank as quickly as they could.

It took only seconds to follow the sweeping corner in the street and finally reach Gringotts. Invisible from farther away, they now became aware of a tower of billowing smoke rising from the bank. The front doors, heavy, strong, and guarded by goblins, were twisted and tossed aside, revealing a dim view of the charred ruin inside. No sounds at all came from the building. The only goblin-like shapes they could see were completely motionless. Gripping his wand, Harry began to walk toward the steps to the doorway.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Valencia asked.

"We're going in."

She remained completely still, her piercing eyes staring at him. "I don't have to guess what's happened here. You came back because the cloaked wizard was returning as well. It's obvious that he made it here first. It's time to give up, Harry. We've lost again. There's no point in risking our lives."

"He came here," Harry replied. "He's going make them tell him what we found. If there is any chance, we have to try to stop him."

"There is no chance, Harry," she said, shaking her head. "We can't stop him. Not with wands or weapons or words. The only thing that matters is the Jewel and there's nothing in there that will help us find it any faster."

"Well there's nothing out here that will help us, either," he replied, striding toward her. "That is, unless you already know where it is and have been keeping it from us all this time because it wasn't what you were looking for."

Valencia glared at him. "I told you I would help you find the Jewel and I have kept my word. Everything credible piece of information I've found about the Jewel I've shared with you."

"You're hiding _something_," Harry said. "You've paid the goblins to keep it hidden and it's something related to that scroll and arch."

"You are mistaken, Harry," Valencia replied. "I have made no deals with the goblins. I avoid them whenever possible. Perhaps you misunderstood. Goblins are not always clear about their intentions."

Harry watched her suspiciously. "Grimbok was quite clear. He said he had found something I would want to know but that someone had already paid him to keep quiet."

"It wasn't me," Valencia replied nonchalantly. "Perhaps we'll go ask him?" she said, climbing the stairs and pointing into the smoking entrance with a mocking smile.

Harry was not amused or convinced. "What did he find, Valencia? What have you been hiding from us?"

"I have minded my own business and so should you," she said in a harsh voice. "I don't pay goblins to keep my secrets. If I have secrets, they are mine and no business of yours."

As they fought, Tonks and Simon had cautiously approached the broken entrance, peering into the thick darkness on the other side. After a moment of searching, Simon turned around, flicking red sparks from his wand to catch Harry's attention.

"Harry!" he hissed. "I think something is moving in there. It might be a survivor. We need to—"

His voice was silenced abruptly as his body shuddered. Looking down, he spotted a small silver point covered in blood and jutting from his chest. Gasping for air, he stumbled forward, revealing the hilt of a long dagger pressed into his back. He quickly fell the ground, his hands struggling in futility against the tip of the knife. Tonks rushed toward him, but backed off immediately as a large shadow appeared in the doorway where Simon had been standing.

"Still keeping secrets, Valencia?" a voice laughed from the darkness. Without warning, the cloaked wizard strode into the and leaped down the stairs. Valencia tried to jump out of his way, but the moment she reacted, he sped up, striking with the speed and precision of a cobra. In an instant, his hand was clamped around Valencia's neck, lifting her so that her feet could barely touch the ground. Harry rushed forward, aiming his wand at a large block of masonry nearby.

"Stay back!" the wizard shouted. "Do not question my ability to kill her. I do not wish to do it, but I assure you it is well within my power."

"Why should we believe you?" Harry replied. His wand was drawn and trained on the wizard though he knew it was an almost pointless gesture. "Why should we think you'll treat her any differently than Simon or Evelyn or any of the other witches and wizards around us?"

The cloaked wizard's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Because I owe a debt to the Desmoda family. The untimely death of their last and youngest daughter would hardly be a fitting repayment."

Harry turned to look at Ginny and the others and saw equally surprised reactions on their faces. The cloaked wizard found this amusing and let a soft, hissing laugh escape as he turned to face Valencia.

"Ahh, little Valencia. You know who I am, do you not?" he asked her in a harsh voice. "You do recognize me. We have met before when you were _very_ young." He pulled her closer and twisted her neck so she faced Harry and the others. "You never told them, did you? You never told them what I was. Why not? Have you still not figured it out?"

"You're supposed to be immortal," Valencia said in a strangled voice. "They said you were _the_ immortal, the only one who had ever succeeded. But it's just another lie, isn't it?" she said with as much of a sneer as she could manage. "If you truly are immortal, then why do you fear Harry? Why do you fear the Jewel?"

"You think you are wise, _child?_" he spat. "In the same breath you admit the power of the Jewel and deny my immortality?"

"You're no more immortal than the rest of them," she shot back, "and you're no less of a coward. You succeeded only because your fear and ambition were greater than your wisdom."

"I succeeded because I _never wanted it_," he growled. "I did not choose this existence. _She_ did," he barked, pointing a long, chalky finger at Ginny.

"And now you're protecting the rest of the world from it?" she snapped. Her face and eyes were beginning to pale. "Do you expect us to thank you for your service? Should we bow before you, humbled by your sacrifice and awed by your hollow, false immortality?"

With shocking force, he slammed her against the wall, pinning her neck against the stone and leaving her feet dangling inches above the ground. "You claim that immortality is an illusion, that it grants nothing and is worth nothing. You pretend to be above such foolish desires." he snarled. "I wonder: If it were offered to you right now, what decision would you make?"

"I don't bargain with treacherous liars," she replied as her hands scratched at his, trying to loosen his grip.

"I offer it freely and ask nothing in return. Think of it as a gift," he said softly. "You simply need to decide."

"No," she snapped.

"You do not need to speak," he whispered with false kindness. "Your mind is laid bare to me. I am offering you something you have desired for hundreds of years: an end to this fragmented life of yours."

Valencia stopped struggling and stared into the wizard's face. "I do not fear death," she said flatly.

"Of course not," the wizard said with a bitter laugh. "Death is as fearful to you as fire is to a dragon. Yet you walk about this world, declaring that immortality is useless. You are little different than those drinking from golden cups and declaring that wealth cannot buy happiness. I am a liar?" he asked, leaning close to her face. "You are quite the hypocritical creature, are you not little Valencia. In the end, you continue to prove that you are still the accursed offspring of your parents."

"No," she choked. "I'm different."

"Are you?" he asked. "The prove it. Show me. Show _them,_" he said, waving an arm at everyone else. "I will offer you three choices: I can kill you this instant, granting you the belated death you would have had centuries ago. I can strip the tattered scraps of this curse from your body, turning you into a witch like any other, mortal and weak, subject to the vengeful ravages of time which you have cheated for so long. Or I can repair you, make you whole and complete, giving you the cursed existence which drove you from your mother, but allowing you to keep your worthless immortality. Which do you choose?"

Valencia's eyes and hands were shaking with fear. All color drained from her face and her eyes shone pale in the flaming ruins of Gringotts Bank. They were no longer looking at the wizard, but somewhere past Harry. He turned slowly and found Lupin staring back at her. Tonks, standing just a few feet away seemed frozen in restrained fury.

The wizard let out a brief laugh. "Tell them, little Valencia. Tell them what you have chosen."

Valencia's chest was heaving with each breath. Her eyes were locked open and they darted around the scene as if frantically searching for some way out. The sight of her filled with so much fear felt wrong, making it hard for Harry to believe it was really her. She had always been almost threateningly strong and resolute. To see her broken so completely was difficult to watch.

Her mouth opened and after a few attempts to speak, faint sounds began to come out of her mouth. "A... a witch," she declared in a quavering voice. "I choose to be normal. I don't want it, I never—"

The wizard's head fell back as he let out a deep laugh. "A hypocrite to the very end," he said. "Why do you feel shame for your desires? Is it them?" he asked, motioning again toward Harry and the others. "They are not your friends. They were only pawns in your own game of revenge, just like all the others. You have never allowed petty sentiments to get in your way before, not even when they were for your own sisters. Surely you cannot care what they think about you?" He paused and cast his gaze toward the others. "Perhaps not all of them, but just one," he said slowly. "Ah, yes, of course. The werewolf." He turned to smile at Valencia.

"How pathetically predictable," he sneered. "Still, there is no reason you cannot have him. If anyone would accept you, it would be him. I will not stand between you. In fact, I will help you." As he spoke, his eyes began to glow a brilliant green.

"_No!_" Valencia cried out. "I don't want it! Release me. Haven't I endured enough already? This isn't what I wanted!"

"Of course you did," the wizard growled. "Every time you declared how worthless immortality was, it only reminded you of your own weakness. You knew the sting of death all too well. Half mortal, half cursed, you were forced to walk the world alone, uncertain of just which fate would be yours. The fear grew in you, consuming you. I will take that all away."

He clutched her neck tighter and Harry saw a dark veins spreading quickly from under his hand. Valencia gasped as the darkness climbed up over her jaw, stretching out to her eyes and lips. Another gasp pulled Harry's attention away from her and he found Hermione covering her mouth and turning away with a disgusted expression. When he looked back at Valencia her mouth was opened wide, displaying a pair of gleaming white fangs. Her eyes had gotten so pale they looked almost silver and all color drained from her face except for the darkened patch where he had touched her.

He released her finally and she fell to the ground at his feet. Still gasping for breath, Valencia pushed herself onto her hands and knees and let out a horrible, tortured scream. She sat back, keeping her head down while she stared in horror at her deathly pale hands. A second, lower wail escaped her lips, chilling Harry's blood.

The cloaked wizard watched and laughed softly. "What a strange creature you are. I have given you everything you wanted. You have finally joined the rest of your family, and for your patience you have been rewarded far beyond the gifts given them. You no longer need to fear death. It will not find you. No curse will harm you, no weapon will injure you, and not even the afternoon sun will mar your ivory skin. You will endure as I have, so that you may forever treasure the memory of your beloved werewolf, even as the ages reduce the broken remains of his grave to dust."

Pushing back the curtain of ebony hair draped across her face, he pulled her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. "I have given you almost everything you desire. There is but one thing standing in between you and the one you love," he said, pausing to push back her lips and smile at her fangs, "and I have given you the tools to remove that obstacle."

In a flash, Valencia lashed out, sinking her teeth deep into the wizard's arm. With a hiss of pain, he swung his arm, wrenching it free of her bite and tossing her against a stone wall. She recovered quickly and remained crouched in the shadows, glaring at him and wiping his blackened blood from her mouth.

"Ungrateful wretch," he snarled, pressing one hand over the wound. "Drown in misery if you like. It will bring you no satisfaction. Deny my gift if you will, but it is already yours. Happiness is within your grasp. Do not wait for it to come to you. You must take it."

Valencia's eyes immediately found Tonks who was standing only feet away from Lupin. "I wish you good fortune, young Valencia," the cloaked wizard said as he pulled his hood up over his head again. "I would happily stay, but I have urgent business elsewhere." As he walked off, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Ginny," he said. "I am eagerly awaiting our next meeting."

Harry mind raced, but one thought kept returning to the forefront: The cloaked wizard had found something —something Harry hadn't. He strode forward, quickly searching for some way to stop the wizard before he could escape. Finding nothing, he raised his wand and pointed it at the wizard himself. There had to be something which could hurt him. Before he could think of just what that might be, a ghostly figure blocked his view.

It was Valencia. There was a hungry feral look in her eyes, like some desperate, starved animal. Harry backed away immediately, turning his wand on her instead of the cloaked wizard. As he looked at her, he realized that she had taken on an appearance much like Lucy had. Unlike the other vampires, Lucy hadn't been consumed by a rabid desire to kill them. Harry hoped that Valencia might be the same.

"Just relax, Valencia," Harry said in a calm voice. "I know that you've been through a horrible—"

In an instant, Valencia leaped across the distance between them, knocking Harry off his feet, and driving him to the ground. "You don't know _anything_ about what I've been through," she snarled, baring her fangs just inches from his face. "You have no idea what it's like." Her eyes slowly slid down to Harry's neck. "Perhaps you would like to find out."

"Valencia, _no!_" Lupin called out from somewhere behind Harry.

The effect was immediate. Valencia looked up at him with a strange look in her eyes. Leaving Harry, she slowly stood up and began walking toward him. Watching her, Harry knew something was wrong. He quickly found his wand and followed after her.

"Remus," she said in a melodic tone, "will you come with me?"

"Valencia, you're not yourself right now," he said in an even tone.

"He's taken everything from me, Remus," she whispered as she continued to stalk towards him. "I never wanted this. All I wanted was you. You knew what I was. You still accepted me. We were meant to be together, Remus. You have to see that. In over four hundred years, I haven't found anyone who made me feel like you did. I _need_ you."

"I am sorry, Valencia," he replied. "I can't—"

"I am cursed, Remus," she said more forcefully. "I have been doomed to a fate more painful that death. No matter what I do, I will lose you. Don't rob me of my one chance to feel what happiness might have been like. Answer me. Will you come with me?"

"Stay back," Tonks shouted. "Stay away from him."

Fury blazed in Valencia's eyes. "It seems that he is not the problem. Perhaps he is simply... confused. Perhaps if he had fewer options to choose from." Displaying her teeth and letting out a long hissing breath, she lunged at Tonks.

The younger witch tried to pull her wand, but Valencia was far too quick. Tonks let out a short cry as Valencia struck her arm, breaking it with a muffled _crack_. Tonks made a feeble attempt to fight back, but she was quickly thrown across the street. Landing with a weak cry, Tonks tried to get back up, but she quickly collapsed and clutched at her leg with her unbroken arm. Pulling himself off the ground, Harry stumbled forward, trying to put himself between Valencia and Tonks before Valencia could kill her rival. To his surprise, Justinian was already there, standing defiantly while Lupin rushed over to Tonks.

"Get out of my way, you imbecile," she snarled. "You cannot possibly understand the magnitude of the events you are interfering in."

"I know more than you realize," he replied. "You'll never find happiness with Remus. Killing Tonks won't change that. If you do this," he said, "you will destroy yourself. I won't let you do that. After all I have done for you, you owe me this."

"I owe you nothing," she spat. Lunging for him, she wrapped her claw-like hand around his neck. "Your foolish attempts to impress me are worthless and insulting. How dare you presume to think you could be my equal." She pushed him away, effortlessly throwing him directly at Harry. Justinian stumbled backward and Harry veered at the last moment, trying to avoid the collision, but it was too late. The two collided and fell to the ground in a tangled heap.

While Harry and Justinian struggled to stand up at the same time, Ginny had rushed up, taking Justinian's position. Behind her, Hermione and Lupin were working quickly to try and mend Tonks's broken limbs.

"Stop this," Ginny begged. "This isn't you. It's _him_. You don't have to do what he says. You can fight him."

Valencia's eyes narrowed and her lips curled in disgust. "Get out of my way," she roared as she swung her arm. Ginny cried out in pain and stumbled backward. Before Valencia could slip past her, she had stepped forward to place herself in Valencia's path again. From where he stood, Harry could see that part of Ginny's robes were shredded, revealing a set of four long slashes which were bleeding freely.

"Whore!" Valencia cried, lashing out again, opening fresh cuts on Ginny's arm. "This is your doing. You have cursed us all!" Her jaw opened and closed while her tongue played hungrily across her teeth. "Why you?" she asked bitterly. "Why did it have to be you? Your actions have condemned me to this. Is your life worth so much more than mine? After all you've done, how can you believe that you deserve happiness? What have you sacrificed? What have you endured to force this on me?"

Without waiting for an answer, Valencia swung at Ginny again. This time, Ginny managed to raise one of her arms in time to block the attack, but this only left her open to the second. Valencia landed a vicious blow across Ginny's face, knocking her to the ground. Harry raised his wand and without speaking, a number of thin ropes sprang forth and began wrapping themselves around Valencia. She let out a frightening snarl and easily ripped them to shreds before turning her pale eyes on Harry. He prepared to try something else, but Ginny shouted at him even as she forced herself back onto her feet. A pair of deep cuts ran across her cheek and nose and blood was slowly dripping down her jaw.

"No, Harry," she cried, "this is my job. You need to go. Take Lupin and Tonks. Don't worry about me. She'll calm down once they've gone."

"You don't know that!" he yelled. "What if—"

Ginny dodged another strike from Valencia. "Then you'd better go quickly, before we have to find out!" Valencia advanced on her, slowly driving her back toward Tonks.

"Harry!" Josef shouted. Harry spun around to find a broom sailing toward him. There were two more bundled under Josef's arm. Looking down the street, he could see the Quidditch supply shop's window shattered and the contents missing. "The charms are still up. Brooms are the fastest way to the Ministry. Tell the Aurors to come here, but tell them not to kill Valencia. I don't think they'll be able to even if they tried." He tossed the other two to Lupin and Tonks and then strode forward to stand next to Ginny.

Ginny, Ron and Justinian had formed something of a wall in front of Tonks and Lupin, though Ginny seemed to be the target of most of Valencia's anger. As Harry approached, Valencia's attack grew more desperate and Ginny stumbled and dropped onto the street. Valencia fell upon her, but Justinian and Ron managed to pull her off before she could cause much more damage. Hermione helped Tonks onto one of the brooms and seconds later, she and Lupin had launched themselves into the night sky. Hermione simply collapsed onto the ground, watching as Valencia fought on in despair and anger.

"Harry, go!" Josef shouted.

"I can get more brooms," he replied, glancing back toward the shop.

Josef shot an angry look back at him. "No, we can't leave her. We can't let her escape." Beside him, Ginny's movements were getting a little more sluggish and Josef and Justinian were forced to fend off more and more blows as Valencia unleashed her frustration on them. Reluctantly, Harry forced himself to mount the broom.

"Harry," Ginny called out as he prepared to take off, "tell them— tell them we need a Healer."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter was delayed a bit for a mild re-write of a couple sections. Hopefully no one notices. This chapter is dedicated to all those people who were starting to worry that the plot would never speed up again. There is quite a bit of information here, and if you're willing to read between the lines, you'll get quite a few answers to questions you might have had a while ago. Feel free to ask questions if you like, but if they're about Valencia, it might be worth waiting for a chapter. Hopefully this was enjoyable.


	17. The Librarian's Legacy

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 17**

**The Librarian's Legacy**

* * *

Ginny awoke to find herself in a soft, yet somewhat uncomfortable bed. Looking up, she found a grey-haired wizard looking down at her while he swirled a large bottle of greenish liquid. The fact that she was looking up at him didn't seem at all interesting to him, so she relaxed and let her eyes close again. She felt tired and weak and her leg was throbbing. Her mind traveled back, remembering the confrontation between her and the cloaked wizard in the _Leaky Cauldron_. She had escaped the Ministry. They had fixed her leg there. Why did it still hurt?

_Was it all a dream?_, her mind almost screamed. Her eyes flew open, staring up at the wizard. It seemed so real, but the desire to have it all be some horrible nightmare was strong. She sat up suddenly and within seconds, powerful waves of pain filled her head, rolling down her body triggering dozens of individual stabs of agony as it passed. She let out a cry and her hands pressed against her upper chest, where she'd felt the sharpest pains. Looking down, she could see four long scars which stretched from her shoulder, across her body and down under the top of her gown.

_Valencia._

As she stared at her chest, she remembered the burning pain she felt when Valencia had slashed at her. It wasn't a dream at all. It was all real. Her chest heaved, but she couldn't seem to get enough air. Every gasp only brought more pain.

"Relax," the wizard said soothingly as he pressed her shoulders back down onto the bed. "You need to stay still for now. I would have hoped you'd learned your lesson about letting your body heal before strenuous activity. Those cuts were deep. They're healing, but you need to remain still or they'll scar badly. I'm sure I'm not the only one who would feel that is a horrible shame."

Ginny let herself relax and the memories flooded back to her: Simon being killed with the same knife she had used in her escape, the cloaked wizard killing Reynard, Evelyn staying behind and letting him kill her, too, and then Valencia being turned into some horrible creature. After that, her memory seemed a little more hazy. Valencia had attacked her. Josef, Justinian and Ron came to help her eventually. It probably wasn't the smartest thing she could have done, but someone needed to protect Tonks. Too many people had died that day. She remembered watching Harry leave and she seemed to have memories of him returning later with Aurors. It was difficult to say just what happened after that.

"Harry..." she whispered. "Where is—"

"Not here, thank Merlin," the wizard replied. "It's been hard enough working with all the injuries you've managed to collect, the last thing I needed was someone looking over my shoulder and pretending he was a Healer. At least the other one is respectful."

"The other one—" Ginny began as she twisted to look around her. Standing quietly in a far corner of the room, she found Josef. He looked up briefly to gaze at her, gave her a quick smile, then turned his attention back to a book he was holding in one hand.

"I remember telling you to relax," the old man chastised her, pushing her back down onto the bed. As Ginny lay there, he pulled out his wand and moved about checking the collection of bandages wrapped around various parts of her body. Seemingly satisfied, he let out a long sigh and pocketed his wand.

"You seem to be healing fast enough," he said stiffly. "Your leg got the worst of it, and I still haven't figured out just which curse could have caused that, but it should get better as long as you're not running about on it in the next few days." He walked to the door and paused to speak to Josef. "Stay as long as you want," he said softly. "Just remember that she needs to _relax_ for a good hour before going to see her friends, and when she does, she should _walk slowly_."

Josef nodded silently and slipped his book into his robes. Once the Healer left, he walked over to Ginny's side. "They ordered Harry to leave," he said with a smile. "They said he kept getting in the way. To be honest, he does seem to be getting a little more paranoid lately, but it was particularly bad this morning."

"Morning?" she repeated. How long had she been lying in bed?

"Yes, I believe the sun is just rising. Walpurgis Night is over. It is yet another coincidence which is difficult to ignore. The old superstitions say that the barrier between our world and the world of the dead is weaker on Walpurgis Night. I cannot believe that the cloaked wizard wasn't aware of the stories. True or not, it is something we should have considered."

Ginny didn't reply. She simply nodded and looked up at the ceiling. She didn't want to think about what happened. She would have to eventually, but there would be time for that later.

"I have a present for you," Josef announced lightly. Ginny looked over and found him lifting a long black bundle of cloth from his arm. He held it up for Ginny to see it.

"My cloak," she cried, nearly jumping out of bed. Josef quickly reminded her to lay back and relax. Once she had, he placed the cloak next to her on the bed. "The Healers were going to throw it out."

Looking down at it, Ginny could understand why. Even before the previous night, it had been getting pretty worn. Now, she could see a small section missing at the bottom with the area around it frayed and charred. There were numerous other small tears, some of them matching the same pattern of four parallel cuts found on her chest. She also found the single spot where she had been hit with the curse from the cloaked wizard.

"It saved my life," she said, holding it reverently. "I can't tell you how thankful I am that you gave it to me."

"There's no need to try," he replied gently. "I'm just as thankful. I'm sure Harry is as well."

Examining the frayed hem, Ginny let out a disappointed sigh. "It's too bad," she said, "it was an excellent cloak. I suppose it did more than I could have asked, but... well, I wish it would have lasted a little longer."

A smile crept slowly across Josef's face. "You might be surprised," he said. "It might not be so fashionable anymore, but it still has some power left in it. One of the Healers nearly lost a finger trying to cut it off you."

Ginny stared down at the cloak in amazement. "It— But how—" she stammered, turning her surprised expression on Josef. "Fred and George's cloaks can only stop a few curses and then—"

"That's because they only make Shield Cloaks," Josef interrupted. "Now, that was one of the Shield Cloaks once, but I spent quite a bit of time adding all sorts of other protections to it. I don't even remember how many it was in the end. The charms won't last forever, but it's held up quite well, considering what it's been through. With a little luck, it should last a lifetime."

"I'm afraid that's not very comforting," she replied in a grim tone. "Shield Cloaks have a tendency to last exactly one lifetime. If I had the choice, I'd like to outlive mine."

"Yes, I see your point," Josef said with a warm smile. "If I had to pick, I would make the same choice. I'll do whatever I can to see that it happens and that cloak will make my job a little easier."

They continued to talk idly for some time. Every few minutes, Ginny's eyes would flit over to the clock hanging above the doorway, checking to see if her hour of detention had passed yet. If Josef noticed, he didn't show it. Instead, he tried to keep her mind occupied with a variety of other things, including the Quidditch World Cup tournament. He was the first to tell her that the French team had lost the most recent match to the Norwegians. The French immediately protested, claiming that it was unfair that they were forced to play so soon after losing their Seeker during the attack in Paris. As he began telling her how the Norwegians responded, her eyes found the clock and saw that her hour had passed.

"Where is Harry?" she interrupted.

Josef's mouth closed into a slight frown. "Not here, obviously," he replied, managing to hide his frown, but not his frustration. Ginny recognized this reaction as Josef's behavior when Harry had done something Josef didn't approve of.

Ginny sat up and gave him a stern look. "Where did he go, Josef?"

He let out a long sigh and looked away. "The last time I saw him he said he was going to check on Hermione." Ginny immediately swung her legs over the side of the bed, and Josef rushed toward her. "Just relax," he urged her. "It might have been an hour, but you've not healed yet. There's no need to run after him. He might be foolish and impatient, but he's not going to make that mistake again."

"I know," she said, already slipping the cloak around her shoulders and walking toward the door. "I just... need to talk to him."

"Don't go," Josef said. He was trying to remain passive, but the concern was evident in his eyes. "It's only feeding your fears and anxiety. Seeing the two of them in the same room isn't going to make you feel any better. When he's ready, Harry will come to see you."

"I wish it were that easy," she replied, pausing briefly at the door. She walked away before Josef had a chance to respond. She knew what he'd say. She knew she was being manipulated, that all her nervousness and compulsive thoughts were part of the cloaked wizard's plan, and yet, she couldn't just ignore Harry. He'd been driven away from her before and she wasn't about to let it happen again.

After getting directions from one of the passing Healers, she made her way to Hermione's room. Truthfully, she didn't expect to find Harry and Hermione doing anything like they had in her nightmares, but she knew she wouldn't feel comfortable until she could see Harry and make sure he knew that she still cared about him. Moments later, she reached the door to find it closed. With a trembling hand, she reached for the handle and opened it.

She immediately spotted Hermione sitting on the floor near a small bed. She didn't look up as Ginny entered. A quick glance around the room revealed that Harry wasn't there.

"You're here looking for him, aren't you?" Hermione asked from her spot on the floor. She was looking down at her gloved hands, letting her hair drape down and obscure her face.

"Er, yes," Ginny replied, feeling somewhat awkward.

"The Healers said you'd be in bed for another hour or more."

"The one in my room said I could walk around a little if I was careful."

Hermione's head shifted slightly. "They said Harry was here, didn't they?" she asked. "That's why you left your room. You came here because you were afraid."

"No, that's not—"

"I never wanted this, you know," Hermione interrupted, "_none_ of it. I never asked for this. I don't know why it's happening. I haven't done anything to deserve this."

"Neither have I," Ginny replied.

"No one has," Hermione shot back. "I know you haven't had an easy time of this, but you cannot imagine what I'm going through. I don't mean to say that what has happened to you isn't painful. You're being blamed for something you couldn't have done, but you know that it doesn't want to kill you. You even use this to protect Harry and the rest of them, but there's nothing you can do to protect me, not from this," she said, pulling back her hair to reveal dark lines climbing up the side of her face. "No one deserves this. Death would be easier."

Looking down at her, Ginny couldn't help but remember Mira had begged for her own death and failed to receive it.

"Why me?" she continued. "Marius Lipton touched Josef, too. He was even possessed by it for weeks and he's walking around like nothing happened. You kissed Harry before I ever did, and nothing happened to you. Evelyn was a willing servant and nothing like this happened to her. Why am I different?" she asked, pulling off her glove to stare at her cursed arm. "Why is this happening to me? Why do I get worse when everyone else seems to recover in days?"

The sight of her pale, discolored skin caught Ginny off guard and she had trouble breathing for a moment. "You can't give up," she said. "There has to be a way to cure it."

"This isn't a disease, Ginny," Hermione replied. "This isn't even magic, not like anything you'd find in a spell book This is some sort of... infestation, and it's stronger than I am. Any cure you might find would kill me first. Maybe that's for the best."

"No," Ginny said sharply. "That's not true."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked in a shaky voice. "You saw what I did. I couldn't even try to fight it, and it keeps getting stronger. I'm a danger to Harry and everyone around me. I'm even a danger to myself. What am I supposed to do?"

"I— I don't know," Ginny stammered. "There has to be something—"

"I want to run," Hermione said. "I want to stay far away from Ron and Harry and you, but I know that if I do, I'll never come back. If I run, it will find me and I'll end up like Evelyn, but if I stay—" She stared up at Ginny with large, glassy eyes. "I think it's been reading my thoughts. It's been using me to follow Harry."

Ginny suddenly realized that Harry and Josef might have already known this. It would explain why they had both been avoiding asking Hermione to help them. However, there was still some hope there. "Harry hasn't abandoned you, yet," she said. "That must mean that he still thinks there is a way to fix it."

"I'm sure that's what the cloaked wizard wants him to think," Hermione replied. "He's wrong. He can't fix this. No one can. I can't run. I can't fight. All I can do is continue on, hoping for the right moment where I can make him wish that he'd killed me properly."

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Hermione wiped her eyes and began to slip the glove back over her arm. "I'm sorry," she said, "I just— I needed to tell someone and you were always a good friend. I doubt I'll get to say this later, so... It was really great knowing you, Ginny. I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you and I hope you find some way to stop all of this. The same goes for Harry. You'll tell him, won't you?"

"Yes, but—" Ginny began, "I'm not giving up. I won't—"

"You were looking for Harry," interrupted Hermione. "He left just a little while ago and said he was going to talk to Valencia. She's in the basement. Cellar Sixteen, I think the Healer said." Ginny tried to respond, but Hermione didn't give her a chance. "I'm afraid you'll have to go. I need to rest. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

Hermione stood up slowly, then crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over her shoulders and turning to face the far wall. Ginny knew this was the end of the conversation. Remaining in the room felt like an intrusion, so she quickly slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Though the prospect of seeing Valencia was even less enticing than visiting Hermione, Ginny forced herself to walk down to the first level and ask for directions to Cellar Sixteen. This earned her a few surprised expressions, but no one made any attempt to stop her.

Climbing down a long line of dimly lit stairs, she began to hear voices echoing up from below. She recognized one as Harry's. One of the others was Ron, but the third was unknown. The three of them seemed to be having some sort of argument, with Harry's voice sounding the most annoyed. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she started to run toward them, but slowed as she reached the last corner between her and them.

"It sounds mental to me," Ron said, "but I'm not letting him go in alone."

"Oh, I can't let you go in alone," the other voice said. "The Ministry requires Aurors for security."

"Well then, go call them," Harry said. "I'm not in a patient mood."

"There is no need," the other replied. "They are already inside."

"Already— Why?"

"She had a visitor," the man replied. "He was allowed in as a favor to our most generous supporter."

The squealing of iron hinges told Ginny that the door had swung open quickly. A few muffled words echoed down the corridor and she heard the door clang shut a moment later. Caught between the desire to join Harry and the fear of facing Valencia again, Ginny hesitated, then ran down the corridor to the door. Peeking through a gap between the door and the frame, she could see Harry and hear anger and frustration in his voice. Her desire to actually talk to Harry was quickly replaced with a desire to know why he wanted to talk to Valencia.

* * *

Momentarily ignoring the shape of Valencia crouched in the dim cellar, his attention was focused on the man sitting the corner opposite her. It took only an instant to recognize him. "What is he doing here?" Harry asked harshly.

"I already told you," the administrator said curtly, "he is a friend of a very good friend of the hospital —a very wealthy friend."

"He's a new professor at Hogwarts," Harry replied sharply. "His parents were killed by Death Eaters three years ago and before returning to Hogwarts he hasn't stayed in one place long enough to have wealthy friends."

"You don't have to stay in one place to make friends," Justinian said in a low voice. "You simply have to find friends who move with you."

Harry stared at him for a moment. There was something odd about his behavior. He was subdued and quiet, looking almost weary, but when he looked at Harry, it was with a piercing, knowing gaze. Harry got the feeling that he hadn't spent enough time looking for information on the young professor. "Why are you here?" he asked slowly.

"The same reason you are, I'd guess," replied Justinian. "Looking for answers. I'm still waiting for mine, but you've had yours delivered to you." He gave a subtle nod toward Valencia.

"What answers are those?"

"I wish I could tell you," he said flatly. "You'll have to ask her."

Harry turned around quickly and found Valencia watching him from the other corner, her pale eyes almost glowing in the dim light of the room's only lamp. Crouching down with her arms tucked against her chest, she looked more like a wild animal than a witch. "What is he talking about?" Harry asked as forcefully as he could.

"I don't know," she whispered, her unblinking eyes locked on Harry.

"What has he said to you?"

"Nothing," she replied with a scowl. "He just sat there, watching me like I was one of his miserable creatures."

Harry quickly glanced at Justinian, who returned a stony glare. It was clear that if Justinian knew anything, he wasn't in the mood to share it. Harry decided to ignore this, and focus on Valencia. It was her, not Justinian, that he had come to visit. Since entering the small room, Ron had been happy to remain close to the door, but as Harry began to approach Valencia, he had hesitantly stepped forward, his hand inching toward the wand in his pocket, ready to use it should Valencia make any threatening motion.

"The cloaked wizard said you knew him," Harry began. "He said you had met when you were young. He said that was a hundreds of years ago. Is that true?" Valencia's eyes stared into his and he could feel the anger boiling behind them. He could see Ron's shadow shift as he reached for his wand.

Valencia broke her gaze, her eyes blinking wearily before returning to Harry. Slowly, she nodded.

Harry didn't know just what this meant. "How long have you been alive?"

"Four hundred and twenty-two years," she replied slowly. Behind him, the hospital administrator let out a shocked gasp. Justinian, however, seemed unsurprised.

"You knew who the cloaked wizard was all this time and never told us?" Ron blurted out, stepping around Harry.

Valencia's head jerked up, baring a pair of pale fangs. Ron jumped back as the Aurors strode forward. She ignored them and scowled at Ron. "You cannot know who it is," she hissed. "It is not a _who_. It is power and hatred. It is a force beyond the reckoning of witches and wizards."

Harry had stood his ground and forced Valencia's attention back to him. "Well, he said the two of you had met."

"That is true, I suppose," she whispered. "We were brought together. He knew of me, but I was never aware of him. I simply knew he existed. He was the reason why I didn't age... didn't sicken... didn't die. I was a vessel for his power—" she said, cocking her head to the side and staring up at Harry, "—just as you are."

Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him but refused to let himself be distracted. "How?" he demanded. "Why you? What purpose were you supposed to serve?"

"No purpose," she said, shaking her head. "I think he saw me as a pleasant accident, a fortunate occurrence at the end of a string of mistakes."

"From what I've seen, he doesn't make mistakes."

"Oh, he does, I assure you," Valencia replied with a soft smile. "He must, or he would not have needed to spend thousands of years freeing himself from his prison, would he?"

Harry nodded in acceptance, trying to hide the smile on his face. It was the most encouraging thing he'd heard in weeks. "What mistake did he make with you?"

"Not with me," she replied in a more sober tone. "With my father. The mistake was greed, just as it always is. You see, my father was the heir to a powerful, wealthy family, not so unlike the Potters. However, wealth, power, and life were things you can never get enough of. His mind was strong and clever and he sought to increase what he already had in ways many wizards did not approve of."

"He was a dark wizard, wasn't he?" Ron commented.

"He was a powerful wizard," she fired back. "The words _dark wizard_ are nothing but an insulting name you have given to those who do not share your values. This is not a new behavior. My father was forced to deal with many who shared your sentiments."

"Did he kill them?" Ron asked.

"He wasn't given a choice," she replied defensively. "They came to kill him. In such matters, negotiations are seldom effective." Before Ron or Harry could respond, she continued, her tone sharpened for an attack. "Are you so different? Are you willing to let others decide the righteousness of your actions? What would you do if they disagreed with you? Would you kill to protect your family? Would you kill to protect Hermione?"

When Ron didn't reply, Valencia seemed to calm down a little. "My mother was a beautiful witch, the daughter of the head librarian at the _Biblioteca de la Magia Antigua_. My father loved her very deeply and she loved him. There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her, and he loved his daughters just as much."

Her expression sagged a little. "I had three older sisters, but I only knew two of them. The other... died when she was still an infant. It was very hard on my father. He suddenly perceived the inevitability of death and realized that neither wealth nor power could protect my mother or sisters from it. So, he began searching for something that could.

"He had read of Nicolas Flamel, but knew that no amount of gold would convince him to give up or even share the stone he had created. His secrecy and refusal to explain how he had created it convinced my father that Flamel had not created the stone as he claimed, but that he had simply copied an older work. In his research, he had come across mentions of an older stone which promised its owner immortality. He put Flamel aside and began to search directly for this older stone."

"He found the Jewel of Darkness," Harry said in shock, surprised at how close they had been all this time.

"Not the Jewel, no," Valencia replied. "He had only found mention of it. What he found was... something else. He never told me what it was. He would only say that he had found it in a cavern beneath an old castle in the city. He said there was something there, something that let him talk to someone who said they gave him what he desired."

"The Veil," muttered Harry. "He found the Veil in Barcelona."

Valencia nodded slowly. "Yes, that is clear now. After he found it, he began spending quite a bit of time traveling. He would spend long nights in the study or at the library and leave in the morning.

"He was looking for the other Veils," Harry said aloud. "That's how he knew where they were and how to get to them. Your father told him how to find them."

"He hadn't told anyone what he was doing. My mother didn't see him for months. Then, one day, he returned and told her that he had an amazing gift for her. He left that evening and when and when he returned he told her that he'd found a way to protect her forever, he'd found a way to make her immortal. He had changed, though, and my mother was afraid of him. She shrank away from him and refused the gift he promised her."

Valencia's hollow eyes blinked slowly as she stared down at her hands. "My father became very angry. He would do anything to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from herself. She tried to run away, but he caught her and held her down as he sank his teeth into her neck. They said her cries could be heard from the street which ran along our estate." She looked up at Harry with tearless, icy eyes. "I was born two months later."

A chill ran down Harry's spine. He didn't know what to say, but Ron didn't suffer from that problem. "And you defended him just a minute ago?" he cried. "He's a monster."

"He was my father," she replied weakly. "Maybe he was a monster, but he loved me as any father would love their daughter, perhaps even more so because of what happened to my mother. She didn't accept the change as gracefully as my father or my sisters. She became vicious and prone to wild fits, eventually locking herself in the oldest part of the manor. My father was patient with her, always insisting that time would cure her since it could no longer harm her.

"My sisters mourned the loss of daylight more than their mother," she continued. "As they grew older, they compensated for this by living even more vigorously during the night. As the attractive daughters of a wealthy family, they were very popular at parties and they took to their new half-lives with fiendish glee.

"And while they enjoyed themselves and many others, I remained home with my father while he taught me everything I could learn. I was not like my sisters. While I could feel the burn of the sun, it did not hurt me. I did not feel the hunger for blood which they did, yet I did not hunger for food either. It was as if my mother's desire to protect her child had distilled the curse, leaving the most vile, destructive portion in her while I received only the mildest effects."

"What are you, then?" Harry asked, his attempts at eloquence overshadowed by his curiosity.

"An abomination, according to my mother," she replied. "I suppose she is finally right. There were no words for what I used to be: not a vampire, yet not a normal witch. By my sixteenth birthday, it was clear that my aging had slowed. By my twentieth, it had all but stopped. My sisters had not aged a day, and this began to make others suspicious. My mother had only gotten worse. Her teeth began to darken and my father stopped visiting her. He viewed my sisters as petty and irresponsible, but his love for me grew. In me, he saw the last remnants of my mother's beauty. He began working again, searching for a way to cure my mother and lighten the curse that had been given to her and my sisters as it had been in me.

"Then, one evening, they came for us," she said heavily. "My sisters had left in a carriage for yet another party in the countryside. The sun had not yet gone down, so I answered the door. There was two of them, an old man and a young woman. The old man was wearing a medallion around his neck carved with the shapes of two lions standing on their hind legs and facing each other.

"I didn't recognize either of them. The woman asked where my father was and I told her that he was traveling on business, just as I told every other person who came to see him. They asked where he'd gone, and when I said I didn't know, the older wizard said that it didn't matter. They grabbed me, pulled me into the courtyard. After tying me to the gate, they walked back into the house. They couldn't have known that the sunlight wouldn't kill me. If they had, I imagine they would have chosen a more merciful fate for me. Instead, they left me there to listen to my mother screaming as they murdered her."

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Despite everything she had admitted about her family, it was a fate that he could not wish upon anyone.

"I struggled to free myself," she continued in an emotionless voice. "I strained against the ropes and they cut into me, drawing blood and breaking bone. I heard the sounds of another battle and knew it was my father, no doubt woken by my mother's cries. With all my strength, I tore myself away from the gate and ran back into the house to find my father standing over the old wizard's broken body. The younger witch was still alive, though, and as my father called out to me, telling me to run, she shoved a long wooden spike through his chest.

"I watched my father die," she admitted coldly. "I watched the witch who killed him calmly kneel down and take golden medallion from the old man's neck, and when she stood up again, I obeyed my father's last wish: I ran. I found my sisters and told them what had happened. We returned to the estate to find it burning, the witch who killed my father waiting there with another wizard. I was still injured from my escape and my sisters were nearly helpless. Escape was our only choice.

"We traveled to an old family house in Cordoba and within days they found us. We left immediately for Madrid, then Nice, then Venice. Whenever we stopped, the witch and her companion found us. Against my sisters' wishes, we returned to Barcelona. This time we stayed in a dingy inn under false names. It took them a week to find us, but in that time, I had killed everyone who had dealt with me or my father, leaving no one who could possibly identify me.

"I was not surprised when I saw them arrive at the inn. Instead of running again, I kept their arrival a secret from my sisters and remained patient. Early the next morning, I heard the door open and saw the witch step into the room. I broke her jaw immediately," Valencia said without remorse, "then her legs, and then I drove a jagged splinter of wood through her chest." For a moment, she seemed proud, but this dissolved away quickly. "Then, while her corpse cooled, I took two more splinters and killed my sisters while they slept."

"You... killed them?" Ron gasped.

"I killed them all," Valencia answered. "Everyone who knew me. Everyone who might recognize me. I burned every painting of me, every scrap of parchment mentioning me, and every place I'd ever lived. And then I burnt down the inn."

"You just disappeared?" said Harry.

"I tried to find the young witch's companion, but it was impossible. So I went into hiding. I didn't need to kill him. Old age would do that for me. After a hundred and twenty years, I returned to Spain. I kept moving, waiting for some sign that I was still being hunted, but found nothing. After two hundred and thirty years, people only had dim memories of the Desmoda family, little more than a mysterious folktale told to them when they were young. I took an assortment of jobs, never staying in one place long enough to raise suspicions. Whenever possible, I would return to the library where my grandfather had worked."

"Why did you leave?" Harry asked. "Why did you come here?"

"Fifty years ago, while I was working at the library, an old man, perhaps one-hundred years old, approached the head librarian. As I passed by, I spotted something I never thought I'd see again: the golden medallion. Somehow, they had found me after over three hundred and fifty years. It was impossible. The man couldn't have been born less than two hundred years after I had vanished."

"Perhaps he was part of the Brotherhood," suggested Harry.

"No," Valencia said with a strained laugh. "No, I was aware of the Brotherhood and their meddling. The old man was much more subtle. While his young apprentice distracted the librarians with requests for books, he lurked about, searching for me. I waited for my best chance and tried to slip away. As I reached the doorway, I found him waiting for me. He didn't try to stop me and didn't say anything. He didn't need to. I could see the recognition in his eyes. Somehow, he knew who I was. I knew the Brotherhood and its members, and he wasn't one of them."

"If he wasn't part of the Brotherhood, then who was he?"

"Someone else," she answered calmly. "Someone who knew me. I've spent the last fifty years hunting my own hunters. I managed to kill one, but that did nothing to stop them. If anything, it has made them more persistent. The more I looked, the more I realized that it wasn't me they were truly after, but my father. He was killed for what he found. These people hunting me, they were trying to make certain that no one else found what he did and they were destroying everything that might lead someone to that discovery, including me."

"But you didn't come here to hide," Harry replied. "You're using your real name. You took a job that would make it easy for them to find you."

"Once I knew what they were doing, it became easy to track them. They always left a trail, it simply wasn't the trail anyone would look for. Only days after you defeated Voldemort, I tracked them here. For months I waited for some sign, but nothing happened. I decided to try and provoke them. I assumed my real name and convinced Professor McGonagall to hire me."

When she said nothing more, Harry became impatient. "And what have you found since then?" he prompted.

"Nothing more than what you've learned yourself," she replied sullenly.

"You're lying," Harry replied. "You've had four hundred years to understand what is happening, and you're telling me you don't know anything?"

"Nothing that could help you," she replied firmly.

"Where is the Jewel?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I would say that it doesn't exist had I not met the one who was imprisoned with it."

"What is the cloaked wizard?"

"I don't know," she said again. "I don't think anyone ever will. He is immortal and unstoppable."

"That's not true," argued Harry. "He was stopped before, by this Angel he talks about. Do you know who she was?"

"No," Valencia replied, growing increasingly impatient herself, "and I don't care."

"You don't care?"

"No, I don't," she snarled. "Don't you see, Potter? I'm not alive. I'm not dead. I am becoming everything that my mother once was. I have lost everything that I cared for. All I have left is agony. That is what his 'gift' was. That is all it has ever caused. Immortality is pain, Harry," she growled. "It is torture and loss and misery. I am filled with nothing but suffering and fury, turning on those who I cared for and enslaved to a master who draws pleasure from my grief. I haven't even been given the escape of death and peace. I must endure against my will, spending every hour wishing that I would simply not exist."

"Is that what you would want?" Justinian asked from across the room. This abrupt interruption made everyone turn to face him.

"Do you think this is some sort of game?" Valencia snapped.

"Not at all," he replied soberly. "You said that you wanted to end your existence. Is that truly what you want?"

Valencia scowled at him. "Imbecile. Is your weak mind still struggling to understand what he did to me? I am immortal. Whatever is left of my soul is trapped in this body until he comes to claim it. I cannot be killed as I killed my sisters. Believe me, I have tried," she said, raising a long finger to point at a blood stained spike of wood which looked to have been torn from a nearby crate.

"There is another way," Justinian replied, "a darker way, a way he cannot follow. I cannot guarantee that your soul will be at peace, only that it will be free of this torture."

"Why?" she asked. "Why are you offering this?"

Justinian stood up and walked across the room. Looking down at her, Harry could see a tear slowly rolling down his cheek. "Because I love you," he replied, "because your suffering is my fault, and because it is my duty."

"Your duty?" Valencia replied, her pale eyes opened wide. "What do you—"

"I was ordered to kill you," Justinian announced. "I started tracking you two years ago, waiting for the right moment to strike. Then, slowly, I found that I had fallen in love with you, even though you didn't know me. I followed you to Hogwarts, ignoring my orders, hoping that I might convince you to join us. That was a mistake. I was selfish and you have paid the price. I will do whatever it takes to end your suffering, no matter how much pain it causes me."

Valencia stared at him, confusion swirling in her eyes. Slowly, her head nodded in agreement. "I accept," she said. "My father made a grave mistake. I will see that it is fixed."

"You remember the inn where you first escaped?" he asked. Valencia nodded. "I will await you there."

"Hold on," the administrator called, "she can't leave. The Ministry has ordered us to keep her locked up until—"

"You can't stop her," Justinian said as he reached into his pocket. "I wouldn't recommend that you try."

Awaking from his shock, Harry turned on Justinian. He was just about to demand a better explanation when he saw the young professor opening a small cloth pouch. He spotted a brief glint of light off what looked to be an empty glass bottle. The moment it touched Justinian's hand, he vanished. It took Harry a moment to realize what he'd just seen: He had used a Portkey. There would be no way to follow him.

With Justinian gone, Harry's gaze returned to Valencia, but her eyes were shut and she remained completely still. He tried asking her more questions, but she refused.

"We have nothing more to talk about, Potter," she whispered. "I would wish you good luck on your quest, but there is little point. You will fail."

* * *

Ginny awoke violently, gasping for breath and trembling uncontrollably. She stumbled out of bed and checked to see that she hadn't woken Harry. He shifted fitfully, struggling against a mess of covers, but remained uncomfortably asleep. Walking on weakened, unsteady legs, she slipped out of the room and crept toward the stairway.

It had been another nightmare. Her skin was still flushed and hot and a thin layer of sweat made her damp nightgown cling uncomfortably to her skin. The fact that she was having the nightmares was something she didn't like to think about. She hadn't told Hermione and she knew she couldn't tell Harry. They weren't like the visions the cloaked wizard had forced upon her, and yet, they weren't so different that she could blame them on a lack of proper sleep or fix them with a nice long holiday.

The most recent one was yet another on a popular theme. She had imagined herself chained to the floor of a dark chamber while Harry lay nearby, dying slowly from some invisible wound. The cloaked wizard was crouching next to her, offering to help her. Hermione, an increasingly common element in these nightmares, simply stood nearby, watching and laughing at Ginny's futile attempts to escape. She knew it wasn't real, but the effects were real enough. Her heart ached at the thought of Harry's death, her muscles ached from exertion, and her whole body was hot to the touch.

There was something sinister about all of it, something horribly foreboding. She knew it didn't make sense. She knew what Ron would say. She had heard all of Hermione's arguments. Still, she couldn't help but feel that her nightmares weren't so much a vision of her fears, but a vision of her future.

Cautiously walking down the stairs, she could see a dim flickering light coming from the kitchen. A chill washed over her and she spun around, almost certain that she'd find the cloaked wizard standing behind her, ready to grab her and take her away as he had promised. Instead, she managed only to lose her balance. Grasping at the rail, she stumbled, turned her ankle and just barely caught herself before tumbling down the stairs. Biting her lip to keep herself from crying out, she limped the rest of the way down, watching the light at ever step.

Ignoring her pain, she crept forward, staying close to the wall. When she reached the door, she paused. She could see no one at all in the kitchen. The light was coming from a single candle, half melted and perched on a silver stand in the middle of the table. Something in front of it was glittering softly. Ginny felt an irresistible curiosity, and began to slowly walk toward the table.

The complete silence surrounding her made her intensely uncomfortable and her heart raced as her eyes flitted from one shapeless shadow to the next. Only now did she realize that she had left her wand behind. She contemplated returning for it, but as she stared into the gaping darkness on the side of the doorway, she couldn't seem to force her legs to walk toward it.

Was this another nightmare? What could it mean? Why was it different? Harry was always in her nightmares. If he wasn't there, then what was the point? A new thought came to the forefront: Perhaps this wasn't a nightmare, but a vision, a message from the cloaked wizard. Her mind drifted back to the glittering object by the candle. What was it? Why was it there? She turned slowly, trying to calm herself and tell herself that she was safe. Inching closer to the table, she squinted into the light to get a better look at it. It was longer than it first appeared, more than a foot, and made of silvery metal. Memories exploded in her mind and she rushed forward to stare down at it in surprise.

It was the dagger Albert had left on the table to tell her how to escape, the same one she had stabbed the cloaked wizard with and the one he had used to kill Simon. Despite all her efforts, her heart pounded and her chest heaved with huge gasping breaths. The tip of the dagger was pointed toward the darkened fireplace. Was that supposed to mean something? Why was she there? Where was Harry? What sort of vision was this? Slowly she reached for the knife, but stopped as she saw her own pale fingers trembling as the stretched out for it. She wasn't just trembling, she was shivering. She felt cold. She held still for an instant, struggling with this new information. She never felt cold. Her visions and nightmares were always hot, a dry, baking heat. The only reasonable conclusion was a truly frightful one:

_It wasn't a dream._

"You recognize it, don't you?" a voice announced from behind her.

Ginny froze, recognizing it from her nightmares. She didn't turn around, but simply nodded silently.

"Where did you see it?" he asked. "Where did he get it?"

Her muscles tensed and Ginny knew that she was running out of time. She needed to act quickly if she wanted to escape, but what could she do? She didn't have a wand. She knew she couldn't outrun him, especially not barefoot and with an injured ankle. Her eyes locked on the only thing available to her.

A strong hand fell on her shoulder and spun her around. "Ginny, you know where he got it, don't you?" he asked in a deceptively gentle voice.

She looked up and stared into a pair of glowing green eyes set under the hood of a shabby cloak. Reaching blindly behind her, she felt her hand brush the cool metal of the dagger. Quickly and instinctively, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt. Her arm twisted, moving forward while she turned the tip of the dagger toward her foe. She swung the dagger around and downward, aiming it right for his chest. She saw the tip slicing through the air, just inches from its target. Suddenly, pain shot up her arm and she felt a strong hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.

"_Ginny!_"

Ginny's eyes blinked open and she let out a panicked gasp. The cloaked wizard was gone and in the place of his malevolent green eyes, she found Josef's soft, pale blue eyes looking down at her in fear. Her eyes drifted down, finding Josef's hand wrapped around her wrist, holding back the hand in which she still gripped the dagger tightly. She watched in numb disbelief as a dark red stain started to spread from the spot where the very tip of the dagger pressed against his chest.

Ginny let out a horrified gasp. Her hand went limp, dropping the blade to the floor with a series of loud metallic noises. Josef stepped forward as she stumbled away from him. Again, she felt his hands gripping her arms, but this time, they were helping her to sit down on a chair near the table. He was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear any of it. She couldn't take her eyes off the bloodstain growing on his chest.

"It's just a scratch," he said gently. Ripping open his shirt, he touched the tip of his wand to a small incision smeared with blood. There was a flash of light and a brief puff of smoke. After wincing momentarily, he waved his wand over the wound, wiping away all signs of the blood. "You see?" he said, showing her the fading scar. "It's fine."

"I— I almost killed you," she whispered, still shaken by the experience.

Josef smiled broadly. "Well, I'd say that's thinking a bit much of yourself," he replied. "I've had plenty of knives aimed at me. As far as attempts at stabbing me, yours —while both spirited and quite a surprise— is still far below average in terms of both pain and peril of death."

He crouched down to pick up the dagger. After casually wiping the stained tip clean, he held it in his hand as Ginny had. "You see, gripping it like this, with the blade pointing away from your thumb, you need to raise knife over your head to strike." He quickly mimicked Ginny's attack. "It's easy to stop, just as I did. Now, if you turn the knife the other way," he said, flipping it around, "not only can you thrust with more power and accuracy, but your opponent will need to put a little more thought into how he parries the attack."

Ginny sat quietly through the impromptu lesson, but recoiled when he offered the dagger to her, asking if she would like to practice.

"It's just a knife, Ginny," he said gently. "It is no different than a wand. They are simply tools in the hands of those who wield them. The weilders are the ones you can fear."

"He used it to kill Simon," she whispered.

"But that wasn't the first time you'd seen it, was it?" he said as he pulled up another chair to sit next to her. "You recognized it when he used it. You know something about it."

Ginny stared at it, remembering the events in the _Leaky Cauldron_. "I— I stabbed him with it," she whispered. Guilt bubbled up from her stomach. "He killed Simon with it in revenge for what I did to him."

It took nearly a half hour and two cups of tea for him to convince Ginny that she had nothing to be guilty about. Though it was obviously still on his mind, Josef didn't press her for information about the dagger. Instead, he gave her a spare cloak to wear over her nightgown and started a small fire to help her warm up.

"The nightmares are still bad?" he asked.

She nodded silently. "Bad enough that I'm seeing him even when I'm awake."

"Don't worry about that," he replied. "It just means that you're exhausted. It will stop as soon as you get more sleep or get used to having less."

"At the moment, I think I'd prefer that second option," she mumbled. "Less time for nightmares, at least."

Josef raised an eyebrow. "This one was especially bad?"

"More of the same, really," she replied with a shrug. "Hermione was there, but that's nothing new."

"How about a dagger?" he asked. Ginny looked up immediately. He had a gentle, almost apologetic look in his eyes. She let out a long sigh. He was going to ask about again it sooner or later. She might as well give him the answers he wanted.

"No. No daggers."

"This is the one you remember, though?" he pressed her. "You're certain of that?" She nodded and he leaned a little closer. "Ginny, I know you may not want to do this, but I need you to remember that day. Did he say anything about what it was or where he got it? Any detail at all, even if it's only a strange way he described it."

"He got it from me," she replied flatly. "He didn't say anything at all about it."

Josef appeared puzzled. "He got it from you? But— where did _you_ get it then?"

"The same way I did tonight," she answered, "I pulled it off a table." Josef didn't respond at all. He just stared at her as if he didn't want to believe what she had said. "I went there to talk to Albert —er, Aleksey, I guess— and he had brought a table full of junk. There was a shoe which was actually a Portkey and some Floo Powder, but the rest of it was worthless. I think he just bought it with whatever gold he found in his pockets. I can't even guess where he got that knife, but I'm sure it's barely worth the metal it's made of."

Josef collapsed forward, burying his head in his hands. "Just a worthless knife," he muttered. "Aleksey— He probably bought it off some shady shopkeeper knowing it was worthless so he'd be able to make a decent Portkey out of it. He was always good at that." Josef raised his head and snatched the knife from the table. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the dagger across the room where it buried itself in the ornate trim around the door to the parlor.

"Twelve hours," he groaned. "Twelve hours of searching and testing for _nothing._ Another dead end." He sat back in his chair, let out a deep breath and gave Ginny a shallow smile. "Well, we must be getting close."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm running out of ways to fail," he replied. He stood up, walked to a cabinet and retrieved a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky. After pulling the cork, he tipped back the bottle taking a few swallows before lowering it again.

"Is that supposed to help?" she asked disapprovingly.

"Well, it can't hurt, can it?" he replied. "A drunken idiot would have given up after four or maybe even six, but not me," he said, raising the bottle in a mocking salute. "_Twelve hours..._"

"It's not that bad," she said, trying to comfort him. "Nothing's happened for a week. We might have more time than we thought."

"Or it might already be too late," he replied after another gulp. "There's no way to tell. At this point, we're beyond research and logic. The best we can hope for is to stumble about and hope we trip over something important. I had a dozen good ideas for trying to track down the location of the Jewel. About half of them are impossible. The rest —and that dagger was the last of them— were all dead ends."

"You've been doing this all week?" she asked. "You did it without any help? Why didn't you tell Harry about any of this?"

He gave her a strange look. "A while ago, before the attack at the Ministry, you seemed to suggest that you wanted to start your own search for the Jewel —without Harry. Why would you want to do that?"

She stared back at him, then looked over her shoulder to be certain no one else was listening. "I... I wanted to find it and see if I could bargain with the cloaked wizard."

Josef nodded. "An idea which is only half-foolish. Whatever negotiations you might try, you must know that he would find a way to betray you. He would want you to try just so that he could betray you. However, you are wise to want to keep Harry away from the Jewel."

"What?" she asked, shocked at how blunt Josef had been. "What do you mean?"

Josef gave her a serious look. "You and I both know that if Harry finds the Jewel, it won't end well for any of us. There are only two possible outcomes. Either the cloaked wizard destroys him or he becomes yet another puppet —and a frighteningly powerful one at that. Either of them would doom us all."

"So it's all in vain, then?" she asked.

"Not necessarily. I only said that Harry can't find the Jewel. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that there is only one person who can safely find and hold the Jewel. You are that person, Ginny. It has to be you."

"And what would I do if I did find it?" she asked. "Am I supposed to hide it from Harry? How would I do that? I can't bring it here. Between Harry and Kreacher, it's not safe. I can't send it to Gringotts. I can't just leave it where I found it. Where am I supposed to take it?"

"Ah, well that's the easy part," he said with a smile and a dismissing wave. "Though it's a worthless title at the moment, you're still Liaison to Romania. Part of that means they put charms on your office to prevent the use of Tracking Charms. Of course, it's not going to stop dark warlocks or suspicious boyfriends from breaking in, but without any reason to go looking, it's doubtful either of them would ever think of it. They're clever, but you'd have to be mental to—" He paused abruptly and stared at her.

"Is everything alright?"

"Not even close," he replied, "but never mind that. I feel foolish for not thinking of it earlier. It really does solve the problem quite well."

"What problem?" Ginny asked, feeling a little lost.

"Time!" Josef replied giddily. "There was never enough time. It could take days, and there was no way I could ever get enough time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Someone knows where to find the Jewel," he said with a hint of excitement. "They must know, because they continue to hide it. Fifty years ago, they stumbled across Valencia in Barcelona. She assumed they were there to kill her, but it seems they were as surprised as she was. What if they were there for the _History of Magic_, not her?"

"It's not impossible, but that doesn't help us," Ginny replied. "After you sign the page, your name disappears. Or do you know some way of getting it to tell us—"

"Not the faintest idea," he replied, "but, the _Biblioteca de la Magia Antigua_ in Barcelona does keep a ledger of everyone who looks at the _History of Magic_. If they were there for the book and they were trying not to be noticed, they would have signed the ledger. The problem was always one of time. The ledger isn't available to just anyone. At best, I couldn't think of a way of looking at it for more than a minute or two. We may need days."

"How does my office help with this?" Ginny asked, frightened of what the answer might be.

"We steal it," he answered simply. "We take it through the Floo Network back to the Ministry. We can have it in your office before they even think to use the Tracking Charm to find it."

"We steal it?" she repeated. "That's your plan? You're certain that's not the Firewhisky's plan?"

Josef set down the bottle and flashed a crooked smile. "We worked together on it," he replied. "So, what do you say?"

"You're not serious."

"I am."

"It's past midnight."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized, "do you have plans? Some appointment or party you were going off to? Can you think of some better time? Perhaps we could wait until Harry is awake and watching every move you make?"

"Wait here," she replied. "I'll get my wand and some better clothes."

* * *

Ginny waved her wand over her robes, removing the last of the soot from the fireplace. She then turned it on her hair. Pulling a small pocket mirror from her robes, she swirled her wand about, tying her hair into a tight elegant knot behind her head. She looked around quickly, wondering how long it would be before someone came to investigate the new arrival. Seeing no one she went about finishing her quick disguise.

Josef had warned her that the library had charms that would set off alarms if anyone attempted to enter while disguised by magic. However, this was well known and no one even attempted to fool the charms. The result was that the guards and librarians were rarely suspicious of how visitors appeared. So long as she didn't look like she was trying to hide her appearance, no one would really guess that she was.

After applying some dark but subdued lipstick and donning a small black hat she would normally find pretentious, she began walking toward the library's main entrance. Before she reached the wide arching doorway, she was already beginning to feel hot. Josef had insisted that she wear her Shield Cloak, but as she was meant to look like the assistant to a powerful wizard, its battle-scarred appearance would make that difficult to believe. So, she had pulled a set of expensive-looking robes over the top of it. The result was a little bulky and warm, but convincing.

Josef's plan was surprisingly simple, but rested on Ginny's ability to actually get her hands on the ledger, and that would require her to be convincing. She tried to push the memories of her nightmare out of her head. She couldn't act nervous or hesitant. The librarian needed to feel comfortable helping her.

As she stepped into the mail hall of the library, she found it hard to force herself to keep walking. The hall was enormous, with towering shelves filled with books which filled the air with a musty, ancient smell. Josef was lurking somewhere within them, waiting for a simple signal from Ginny that she had the ledger.

The chamber was awe-inspiring, but Ginny knew she had to pretend to find it boring and ordinary. Even though it was the middle of the night, a dozen or so witches and wizards could be seen sitting at tables reading a variety of books or scrolls. None of them paid even the slightest about of attention to her. Walking with purpose and confidence, she approached the lone librarian, a narrow-faced witch with greying hair, sitting at a tall desk in the center of the room.

"I need to look at the ledger for the second volume of the _History of Magic_," she announced without even waiting for the librarian to look up at her. Ginny almost expected to receive a scolding for being disruptive, but instead, the librarian simply took a look at Ginny and let out a mildly frustrated sigh.

"Which volume?" she asked wearily as she closed the book she had been scribbling in.

"Er, the second volume," Ginny repeated.

The librarian stared down at her scornfully. "No, which volume of the ledger," she said, her thick Spanish accent becoming quite sharp. Seeing Ginny's surprised expression, she rolled her eyes. "What years were you looking for?" she asked in a patronizing tone.

"Oh, er— Seventy to a hundred years, I guess," she replied, trying not to make it too obvious what she was looking for.

"So, that would be the volume for this century," she said. Shaking her head, she climbed down from her desk and began walking away. Ginny started to follow, but the librarian glared at her and pointed at a spot on the floor. "You stay here," she hissed. "I will get the ledger and bring it to you."

After waiting impatiently for a few minutes, the librarian appeared, carrying a thick, leather bound book. She slid it onto a nearby table and made a half-hearted attempt to smile graciously at Ginny. "Do not write in the ledger. Do not damage the ledger. Do not leave the ledger unattended and do not take the ledger from this table. You may call me when you wish to return it." With that, she turned abruptly and strode away from Ginny, leaving her with the ledger where only a few people could see her. It was even easier than Josef had expected.

Ginny pulled a roll of parchment from her robes along with a long quill. She opened the large book and began scanning through the pages. Each page was like the one before. Each was filled with name, with a date noted next to each one. She searched just long enough to see that the ledger included the list of everyone who had looked at the _History of Magic_ fifty years ago before putting the quill to the parchment and writing a quick sentence:

_I have it._

There was no change in the writing, no signal to tell her that Josef got the message. He said that he would be able to see it on his copy of the parchment, and all she could do was trust him. A minute or more passed, leaving Ginny with nothing to do but stare at the parchment, wishing that he would have at least brought a quill to write some response.

Just when she was starting to get worried, she heard a loud, piercing creaking noise echo through the hall. She looked up and saw that it had caught the attention of the librarian as well. However, she remained firmly seated, doing little more than tossing an annoyed glare in the direction of the noise.

Seconds later, the sound returned with greater volume. This time it was joined by a host of cracking, popping and grinding noises. Ginny looked up again to see one of the tall bookshelves on the balcony overlooking the main floor leaning precariously. With a loud _crack_, the lean became a fall and thousands of books came tumbling from the shelves as the tower of shelves collapsed. A cloud of dust boiled over the balcony, bringing a flock of liberated pages with it. Ginny stared at the destruction in shock. She had expected a distraction, but never thought Josef would go to such lengths.

A gasp of horror pulled her attention away from the waterfall of books, and she found the librarian leaping down from her desk and rushing across the floor of the hall, shouting orders in Spanish to anyone who could hear her. Ginny's heart began beating faster. Everyone in the hall had turned to look at Josef's distraction. It was her chance to leave.

Stuffing the parchment and the quill in her pocket, she put the ledger under her arm and pulled her cloak over it in a cursory attempt to conceal her crime. There was no time for magic or anything more thorough. She walked quickly but casually back toward the entrance. She passed the final table, leaving only thirty feet or more of open space between her and the entrance. She wanted to run, but she knew she had to keep calm. Josef had to escape, too, and he'd have a harder time if they realized what had happened.

With her heart pounding in her ears, she passed under the wide arch and found herself in the long dim corridor that would lead her back to the fireplaces. She took only a moment to pause and catch her breath before continuing on. Josef had been very firm. She wasn't supposed to wait for him. She would take the ledger to the Ministry and meet Josef back at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It would be too suspicious for her to stand around the fireplaces waiting for someone to spot her. Rummaging in her pocket, she found her Floo Powder and approached the fireplace.

Suddenly, an arm reached out of the darkness to grab her, pinning one of her arms at her side and clamping down across her mouth. She couldn't scream and could barely breathe. Her one free arm was still gripping the book.

"Where are you going so urgently?" growled a deep, heavily accented voice. "What have you got to be frightened of?" he whispered, "It wouldn't have anything to do with all the noise back there?" She felt another arm wrap around her and press against the book.

"Ah, and what is that, I wonder?" he asked with a throaty chuckle. "Seems you've got a treasure with you. It must be valuable to take such risks. The guards they employ at such hours... they are not the nicest of people." He let out a long rasping laugh.

Ginny tried to jerk away from him, but he was too strong and her attempts only made him laugh louder. "No point in that," he chuckled. "I can't let you go, not with that book. That's what they pay me for, you see. So, you just let that book drop and I won't have to hurt you." Ginny knew she couldn't fight or escape without either of her arms. Though she hated to do it, she let the book drop to the floor.

It gave her a little more room to move her arm, but before she could do anything with it, he had wrapped a thick cord around her wrist and twisted it behind her back to bind it with the other one. When he was finished he spun her around so she was face to face with her attacker. In the dim light, she could just barely make out his gaunt cheeks and small, dark eyes staring at her menacingly.

"Cry out, if you like, but I wouldn't if I were you," he whispered. "The last thing you want right now are more guards. I wonder how long they would lock you up for. The last one got ten years, but that was for destroying a single book. How many books were destroyed in there?" he asked. "More than five, you think? It would be a tragedy to have you spend the rest of your life in some dark prison. Perhaps we can make some other arrangement?"

Ginny said nothing as her mind raced, trying to think of some way out of her predicament. The guard became annoyed with her silence, and grabbed her jaw, jerking her head up to force her to look at him. "We can make a deal, yes?" he said in a harsh voice, forcing her head to nod.

"I have gold," Ginny said.

"Bah! Gold!" the man spat. "Everyone has gold. I can get gold if I want it. But you... you have something far more rare than gold. I wonder what other treasures you are hiding under your robes. Perhaps I'll just take what I find and let you go when I'm happy." Before Ginny could respond or scream, he pressed her jaw back, forcing her teeth together painfully. With his other hand he began ripping open her robes. She felt his hand pressing against her ribs, slowly sliding upwards. Her stomach tightened and she thought she was going to be sick. His hand inched up a little more and then suddenly disappeared.

Her eyes jerked open in time to see the guard twisting away and dropped to the ground, gasping in pain. A dark shadow flitted away behind him, and Ginny tried to see what it was, but it was gone before she could find it. After failing in his own effort to find his attacker, the guard flipped onto his hands and knees, and glared balefully at Ginny as he pulled his wand and aimed it at her chest.

The shadow returned with a rustling of fabric and Ginny heard an agonized groan followed by the dull crack of bone breaking and the much sharper sound of snapping wood. As two halves of a wand clattered on the ground, a voice rang out from the darkness:

"_Silencio!_"

It was Josef's voice. The guard's mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. An instant later, Josef leaped into view, kicking the man's head. Ginny winced, the flickering light from the fireplace highlighting the red spatter around the man's nose. Josef circled around stopping to kick the man in his ribs before approaching Ginny.

He quickly untied her and looked into her eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Did he hurt you? Did he do _anything_ to you?" Unable to find her voice, Ginny just shook her head. Josef's eyes narrowed and he turned to frown at the guard still sprawled across the ground.

"Take the book," he said. "Follow the plan."

Ginny stepped around the man and crouched down to pick up the book. After securing it under her robes, she stood up and quickly repaired them to keep the guards at the Ministry from asking any questions. Satisfied with her work, she stood up and began walking away, but stopped when she heard the sound of the guard being kicked again. Behind her, she found Josef circling the guard, threateningly.

"You loathsome, disgusting thing," he growled as his boot came down on the man's left hand. "You never should have touched her. I'd like to say that I could make you wish you never did it, but I'll have to settle to making sure you never do anything like it again. He shifted his weight and the guard's mouth opened in a silent scream as the bones in his hands cracked under the weight.

"No!" she cried. "Stop it. He didn't hurt me."

Josef's expression was cold and hard. "_He would have._ That's all that matters."

"No, it's not," Ginny replied, just as hard. "It's time to go. _Now._" Josef's eyes drooped and he looked down at the guard with disgust. He quickly aimed his wand and stunned the guard before walking over to the fireplace. Ginny waited calmly for him to disappear, then stepped into the flames and left for the Ministry.

* * *

Her quick trip to the Ministry went without incident and neither the guards at the security gate nor the ones patrolling the Department of International Magical Cooperation seemed interested in why she was there. With the book locked safely in her office, she returned to Grimmauld Place. Entering the kitchen, she found Josef sitting at the table, holding the silver dagger and watching the flames in the fireplace as if deep in thought.

"I'm sorry about... what happened to the guard," he said softly. He stared into the fire, breathing deeply. When he spoke again, his voice was flat and hollow. "I think I miss being in the Brotherhood. I think... I was beginning to enjoy it. I wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted to track down wizards like that and see that they never used their position or power or wealth to hurt another witch or wizard. That was the way it was supposed to be, but we failed."

"You could still do it," Ginny suggested. "There is still plenty of gold. You could start all over and make the Brotherhood into what it was meant to be."

"No, I can't," he replied heavily. "It wasn't just Grigore and Razvan, we all failed, _I_ failed. We all strayed from the path. We were all selfish. I should have been content, but I wanted more. Now the Brotherhood is gone, and I've got nothing. I just wanted to be happy, but if there's a way to do it... I can't see it."

"You miss her, don't you?" Ginny asked, walking closer.

Josef's head jerked suddenly as if he were waking up. "I— what?" he asked with a dazed look.

"You miss Lucy," she said. "It's alright to be sad about it. You can even be angry. We'll understand, I promise. Losing someone you love isn't an easy thing to do. I know how it feels. It's hard to let go, but the sooner you do, the better off you'll be."

"Listen to what you're saying," he replied. "You had nothing but foolish hopes, yet you held onto them for over a year. Now you stand here and tell me that I should act so differently than you?"

"That was different," Ginny said, trying to avoid pointing out the obvious difference that Harry was alive and Lucy was not. "I'm not saying you have to be happy about it, just that you have to accept it."

"I don't want to accept it," Josef said firmly, turning back to the fire. "I won't accept it. How can you ask me to accept that I'll never be able to be happy?" Josef stood up, knocking over his chair. His eyes met Ginny's and for a moment, she could see the anger and pain burning behind them. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something more, but as he stared at her, his expression softened. His eyelids drooped, the passion in his eyes cooling and deepening to utter despair. He began walking toward the stairs.

"I can't accept it, Ginny," he said as stopped at the doorway, "—not yet. It's all I've got left."

* * *

Ginny never returned to her bedroom that night, opting instead to sit in the parlor and catch a few minutes of fitful sleep at a time until the sun finally rose. Still wearing the clothes she'd taken to Barcelona —except the robes she'd worn over her cloak— she slipped out of the house before any one else even noticed she was awake.

The Ministry was only slightly less empty than the house on Grimmauld Place. The guard gave Ginny a polite nod as she passed, managing to hide most of the surprise he felt at seeing her at that hour. Even when she had been trying to avoid Harry, she hadn't come in to her office as early as she was today. That fact alone was enough to make her worry that someone might become suspicious. If they heard about the theft from Barcelona, they might start to guess that the two were connected. That fear, however, was overshadowed by the desire to take a look at the ledger. With any luck, she might finally find something useful.

When she arrived at the Department, she found it just as empty as she had left it the night before. The World Cup Championship was only a month away and the French Ministry was struggling to recover from the attack on Paris and still hold such a major international event. At the moment, it was difficult enough assuring everyone that they would be safe.

Despite the French Ministry's need for help, the British Ministry had all but dropped out of participation in the event. Mrs. Reading had been killed. Ginny had been in no position to help, and if she had it would have done nothing to make anyone feel any safer. Scrimgeour had ran off during the attack last week and no one was quite sure where he had gone. The fact that he had deserted the Ministry hadn't made him very popular, and with Reynard's death, Ferdinand Harrington was the only sensible choice to fill in while they figured out just what needed to be done.

This left the Department of International Magical Cooperation without its head and desperately short on staff. Ginny noted that Carmilla wasn't even at her desk. She had not been seen since the attack, either, and the last anyone had seen her, she had been headed to Diagon Alley. She had not been found among the dead there, but she hadn't been found anywhere else, either. While there had been reports of a number of vampires lurking about London, the thought that Carmilla might be one of them was far from comforting.

Ginny entered her office and closed the door, locking it despite the feeling that it was excessive. The ledger was just where she left it. Placing it on her desk, she proceeded to stare at it for a few minutes. Should she wait for Josef? Would he even come? He hadn't been in a very good mood the night before and he had walked off without telling Ginny just what his plans were. To be honest, she didn't expect him to show up. Perhaps he might the next day, but when his mood soured he had a tendency to disappear for a day or so.

It was unfortunate. He was the one who seemed to have an idea of what he was looking for. All Ginny knew was that she was supposed to look for something that happened fifty years ago. The best she could hope for was to find something that didn't seem to fit in. Opening the ledger and flipping to the right years, she quickly became discouraged. Column after column of name stretched out in front of her, each one as nondescript as the next, each page looking like a mechanical copy of the one before it, differing only in the names and dates written on them.

A sharp knock woke her from the monotony and in a panic, she slammed the book shut and quickly shoved it into the nearest drawer. Rushing to the door, she unlocked it and opened it, revealing Josef standing before her with a blank look on his face.

Ginny blinked, trying to decide if she was more surprised that he had come, or that he had managed to walk right up to her office without anyone telling her about his arrival.

"This place is truly empty," he said, reading the thoughts in her eyes. "I suppose no one is all that concerned about someone sneaking into an abandoned department."

Ginny quickly ushered him into her office, closing and locking the door again. When she turned around, she found Josef looking at her desk with a concerned expression. "You do have it, don't you?" he asked. "They didn't figure out—"

"No," Ginny interrupted, quickly pulling the ledger from the drawer. Josef looked relieved but didn't say anything more. If he was still upset about the previous night, he didn't show it. He didn't show anything looking like happiness, either, but Ginny had learned to accept Josef's stoic behavior as a generally good sign.

Opening the ledger to the pages she had already looked through, Ginny asked Josef what they were looking for. She was disappointed to hear him say that he didn't really know either. Without knowing an exact day or even year, they would simply have to search for some pattern —or some break in the normal pattern.

Sitting side by side, they read through the ledger page by page. After four hours and a hundred pages, they still hadn't found anything. They left long enough to eat a quick lunch, then immediately returned to their mind-numbing task. Five more hours passed without finding anything of importance. As her stomach began to feel empty again, Ginny paused to read a date aloud, signifying that she'd found yet another time when the book had not been looked at for more than a week. Josef quickly scribbled the date down on a piece of parchment and took a moment to glance at it. Finishing the last column, Ginny reached to turn the page, but Josef's hand shot out to stop her.

"No, stop!" he called out excitedly. "Bloody hell, that's it. That's the one. We found it."

Ginny stared down at the spot she'd noted, seeing only a list of names and dates and nothing more suspicious than the twenty other occurrences she had found before it. Frowning in confusion, she read over the names immediately before the missing week:

_Antonio Farina - 4 noviembre, 1908_  
_Antonin Alekseyev - 6 noviembre, 1908_  
_Zahi Busiri - 6 noviembre, 1908_  
_Diego Castillo - 8 noviembre, 1908_  
_Elias Mendez, B.d.l.M.A - 9 noviembre, 1908_

"I don't know what you're seeing," she admitted in a tired voice.

"_Antonin Alekseyev_," Josef announced, pointing at the name. "When we went to Gringotts, we found an old, broken archway in a vault and a note addressed to Harry from someone named Antonin."

Ginny rubbed her eyes and wondered if desperation had gotten the best of him. "There are loads of wizards in here named Antonin," she said. "We've found dozens of breaks in the ledger. I'm as eager as you are to find something, but spotting a common name within a few days of one of these breaks— It's not convincing."

"Of course not," he replied quickly. "It's completely uninteresting and that's why it's here. No one else —not even the ones trying to hide the Jewel— would think we would spot it, but everything here makes sense," he said, tapping the names. "A pair of wizards came to look at it on the same day. Two days later, someone else comes to look at it and the very next day, Elias Mendez, a librarian for _Biblioteca de la Magia Antigua_ comes to look at it. Then its ten days before the next person looks at it."

Ginny shook her head. "Yes, thank you, I can read dates—"

"Antonin damaged the book," he announced with certainty. "He was the one who darkened and removed the pages. However he did it, it must have been apparent because the next person to look at it complained and a librarian took it off the shelf to be repaired."

"If it was so apparent, then why didn't Zahi Busiri notice it?"

Josef shrugged. "Maybe he didn't get far enough to notice, or maybe he was afraid of being blamed for it. I don't know why, but I'm certain that Antonin Alekseyev is the name we've been looking for."

"Why are you certain?"

Josef's lips tightened and he stared down at the book. "Because I've heard it before. I can't remember where or when, but I know it's familiar."

"Well, I'd think he'd be memorable," Ginny replied, still somewhat skeptical. "Valencia said he looked to be a hundred years old already. How many one hundred and fifty year old wizards have you met?"

"Not many, I'm sure," Josef replied distractedly. "At that age, he could already be dead. All we know for certain is that he lived long enough to know Harry's name and place that broken arch in Gringotts. Perhaps you could ask the goblins to look for the name. They've listened to you before."

"Harry would find out, I'm sure," she replied. "Perhaps if I could gather enough gold, though." She sat silent for a moment, thinking. "Could you have heard it from someone in the Brotherhood? An old member, perhaps? Maybe the castle in Romania might have some records of him."

"No, that doesn't sound right..." he whispered to himself. "It's as if the memory is older than that."

"Before the Brotherhood?" Ginny repeated. "I suppose that could make sense. The name does sound Russian."

"Of course," Josef said, shaking his head. "I should have thought of it sooner." Instead of being pleased, he looked disappointed and frustrated. "Well, I suppose it's not a total loss."

Ginny could see the disappointment in his eyes. "What is it?" she asked. "You've remembered who he is? Is he dead?"

"Worse," Josef replied flatly. "I don't even know if he ever lived. It was just a name I heard when I was very young. After I... left my family's home, Aleksey —your Albert— let me live with him. His father was a strange man, and I remember that the very first thing he asked me was if I had ever met a man named Antonin Alekseyev." Josef shrugged in defeat. "Perhaps he, too, was searching for the Jewel and stumbled over the same riddle. I only remember it because he asked me three times. When I was older, I tried to look for the man, but I was still young. Perhaps we'll have more luck, but if Aleksey's father failed, then I can't imagine it is going to be easy."

"Well, we could always start by—" Ginny froze and her heart began to pound in her chest. "Wait. You said you talked to Aleksey's father?"

"I lived with him for some time, yes."

"Albert told me his father died."

Josef's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it was a lie to—"

"It's possible, but I don't think it was," she said, standing up. "He said that his father died when Grigore Tarus betrayed him to the Brotherhood."

Josef's eyes shifted back and forth. "That could be possible," he admitted. "Grigore once told me that he was forced to sacrifice many men when he first joined the Brotherhood. But if that was true, why would Aleksey join the group that killed his father?"

"I don't know," answered Ginny. "Maybe Grigore was trying to repay him. The more important question is, if Albert's father was killed, then who is it that you were talking to?"

Josef's eyes stared into hers. "It is an intriguing question. How should we go about finding an answer to it? Do you know where we might find him?"

"No," she replied as she began walking to the door, "but I know who to ask."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

There, that was probably a bit sooner than everyone expected, but there you are. Sometimes I can work fast. However, you'll have to wait more than two weeks for the next one Expect it to be three or so. Then the Olympics might slow the next one down. Oh well, you get the point.

I hope people enjoy this. There are quite a few answers to questions here, and that's what people keep asking for. So, Valencia was sort of a half-vampire. I realize this wasn't fair to all the theory-thinkers, since it was nearly impossible to get right and there was no reason or hints to help you out. Sorry, the world doesn't always make everything possible. Now, as for how she became a half-vampire, I expect some people might do a little grumbling. Yes, it's not the first time its been done. Yes, it is similar to the backstory of Blade. No, there are no more similarities after that. It's meant to mirror Harry's ordeal as a child, not a comic book hero (not that I have anything against Blade or comic books).

I won't really apologize for the slight cliffhanger at the end. I realize it may not be mind-bludgeoningly obvious, but I think you can figure out what she means. I've given plenty of hints to other people, so it shouldn't be shocking. If you still don't know, you'll just have to wait three weeks to find out. While you're waiting you can think about that mysterious number (742? 472? I can never remember what it was... doesn't really matter) and some upcoming Ginny/Albert action. It's sure to please everyone.


	18. The Puppeterr

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 18**

**The Puppeteer**

* * *

Ginny strode into the pub with a stern look on her face. Tom had already laid a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the bar for her, but instead of greeting her and going back to his work, he gave her a concerned look and leaned over the bar.

"You alright, Ginny?" he asked quietly. "Have a bad day?"

"Albert," she said stiffly. "Where is Albert?"

Tom gave her a suspicious look then pointed over his shoulder. "Right over there," he said. "First time in two months he's sat at the bar. Used to do it all the time." He paused and leaned closer to her, a frightened look on his face. "Something's happening again, isn't it?"

"Why would you guess that?" she asked, beginning to feel a little suspicious herself. "Did Albert come in here with anyone else?"

"Not that I noticed, no," the barman replied nervously, "but he's been acting a little odd. Well, a little more odd than usual. He's been... cheery, almost like he's celebrating something. It's been putting off some of the customers. A little too soon, you know? You don't know anything about all that, do you?"

"I'm sure I don't," she replied flatly. "I just need to speak with him."

Tom frowned. "That's what he told me you'd say."

She felt her eyes narrowing. "He's expecting me?"

"For some time, yeah," whispered Tom. "He walked in around noon and asked if you'd come looking for him. When I said you hadn't, he sat down right where he is now and told me that you'd be along eventually. Looked rather pleased about it, I'd say."

Ginny didn't know just what to make of that. Could he know why she was looking for him? Should she be worried? Ginny thanked Tom and slowly made her way toward the stool where Albert sat. As she approached, she heard him telling yet another one of his stories in a loud, boisterous voice. He sounded very much like he had the first time she'd met him. She couldn't decide whether to laugh or gag. Quietly, she stood at the edge of the small audience Albert had gathered.

"...and they didn't believe me, if you can imagine that," he said over the laughs of the wizards around him.

"Can't imagine why!" one of them cried out.

Albert's face dropped to a frown. "I'll have you know I was quite a bit more attractive then."

"Oh really?" another piped up. "And how long ago was this?"

"Oh, I don't know... quite some time," Albert replied as he scratched the side of his head. "At least three years —almost four, I'd say." Another round of laughs rose out of the small crowd. "Well, it's been a very hard three years. I used to be quite the charmer. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered. The Egyptians aren't fond of tomb burglars. They took my wand and tossed me in the nearest cell."

"Didn't you tell them about the other wizard?" someone near Ginny asked.

"Of course," he answered, "but it's a lot less convincing when the bastard who stole it is right there on the other side of the bars telling the Egyptian inspector that he saw me take it. They searched me but didn't find it, of course. The inspector said he'd keep me locked up until I told them where I put it."

"And how long before he let you out?"

Albert smiled. "A day. I may not have had my wand, but I wasn't helpless. I always kept a vial of Love Potion with me. I slipped it into his water during one of my interrogations." He paused to eye the drink on the bar in front of him. "I don't know what I expected, but I figured it was bound to be fun at the very least."

An old wizard with a long beard next to him broke out laughing. "You tried to escape by having him fall in love with you? You thought having him chasing a lost love would be better than having him chase a lost artifact?"

"I don't think I really thought about it that much," Albert replied. "It didn't matter in the end. He tasted something funny in his water and left to get a fresh cup. When he came back, he couldn't stop talking about one of the camels he had seen outside. It took a bit of talking, but he eventually let me go."

A nearby wizard nearly choked on his ale. "He fell in love with a camel and just let you go?"

"Oh no. We made a deal. I promised him that if he let me go, I'd ask the camel's friends if they thought he had a shot with her." The crowd around him broke out into amused laughter. It was obvious that many of them hadn't believed the story.

"Escaping prison with a love potion," one of them muttered as he began walking away. "You're always good for a laugh, Lord Albert."

"Love is a powerful force," he declared over their murmurs. "There is no limit to what one can achieve with it and no limit to one what might do to get it. Just ask her," he said, turning suddenly to look directly at Ginny.

Most of the patrons were already walking off, but one of them paused to reply. "I'm sure she knows plenty about love," he said over his shoulder. "I bet she can get the real thing, though. Pretty thing like that doesn't need to keep it in a bottle."

"Ah, perhaps not," Albert replied with a chuckle, "yet she's come here looking for me. She's quite persistent." He placed his hand on his chest and gave a wistful look toward the ceiling. "I told her that our love was something that could never be, but such emotion cannot be easily denied. She's still young and... full of energy." A number of wizards chuckled, pleased at the continuation of their entertainment.

"I'm just here to talk," Ginny said flatly.

"Yes, of course. To talk," he replied sarcastically while waving his hand in the air. "And while we talk, she'll use my own trick on me and slip Love Potion into my drink. The next thing I know I'll be... Well, there was this time I was on a transport ship in the Black Sea and we ran into some bad weather—"

"I've heard it," Ginny interrupted.

"Of course you have," he said with a wide smile. "You're a Ministry employee now and quite well traveled I'm sure you've read quite a few interesting things, haven't you?"

Ginny gave him a chilly glare. "Yes. I have."

"I see," Albert said, laughing as if she'd made a joke. "So you've come to, er... share something with me?"

Ginny tried to ignore the flippant tone of his voice. "We need to talk, _Aleksey_," she said.

"Who's Aleksey?" Tom asked from behind the bar.

"He is," Ginny announced. "There are quite a few things you don't know about him. For instance, he's got a dead father who's quite the conversationalist. Isn't that right, Aleksey?"

"She's clearly drunk," commented Albert. "She makes up fantastic stories, but tends to get a little angry. For the most part, she's just flirting. Got a bit of a thing for Russians, I'd guess," he added, nudging a nearby wizard. "Now, I for one am shocked that she would choose to get as drunk as she is in any establishment other than this one. However, it's a lucky thing she made her way here, because there are a number of fine rooms upstairs. We'll be needing one as quick as you can, Tom. It's not every evening that young, limber and drunken witches come calling on me. I'll pay you handsomely for it."

"I'm not drunk and you're not as simple as you pretend you are," she growled. "You're no fool. You're a member of a secret society of dark wizards." At that a number of nearby patrons began laughing. Others chuckled nervously and began edging away from him.

"Oh, is that the game you want to play?" Albert said with a chuckle. "You see, Tom? I told you she was drunk. She probably doesn't even realize just how much. It's a game we used to play sometimes, you see. I pretend I'm some manner of troublesome wizard and she tries to deal with me. I've always assumed it's practice for her job at the Ministry." He gave her a comically sinister look. "So, what am I this time, Ginny? A member of a dark, ancient cult responsible for releasing an immeasurably evil force on the world?"

"This isn't a game," she said loudly. "It's the truth, or have you forgotten what that is?" She gestured at the people around them. "You've lied to all of them. You've made them think you're harmless, nothing more than a pub jester whose mind has been addled by too much Firewhisky. You're not even British! You're Russian. You've been using the name Aleksey for years, but I'm starting to doubt that one, too."

Tom gave Albert a thoroughly confused look. "You're Russian?"

Albert paused to look pensively at the ceiling. "Am I? I guess I never thought about it. To be honest, if I were you, I'd trust her over me. I'm only guessing, but it doesn't seem likely does it? I don't even have one of those fuzzy hats. That seems to be the one defining feature of a Russian. I have to assume I don't have the accent, either. I imagine I'd do much better with the ladies if I did. Of course," he said suddenly, "some people called my father Aleksey. Maybe you're thinking of him?"

"You told me your father was dead."

"Yes, he is," Albert replied with shallow seriousness, "but we didn't change his name after he died. Seemed a bit harsh, we decided."

"Did he die before or after Josef spent a week with him?" Ginny asked, but Albert was still staring at the ceiling.

"Come to think of it, Aleksey does sound rather Russian, doesn't it?" he mumbled. "It's no fuzzy hat, but it could be rather convincing. Pity about the accent though. That could have been handy."

"Enough, Aleksey," Ginny said, slamming her hand down on the bar and creating a sound loud enough to attract the attention of half the patrons in the pub. "I didn't come here for your jokes."

He woke up and glanced at her for an instant before leaning forward to speak to Tom. "She's in a bit of a rush, isn't she?" he said with a quiet laugh. "Hurry up with that key, my good man. And how about another bottle of Firewhisky. Just a bit of insurance, if you catch my meaning." He reached into his pocket and slapped a small stack of Galleons on the bar.

Tom regarded the coins as if they might attack him if he touched them. "I, er— Ginny's a good customer, Albert. Almost a good friend. And Harry Potter is a fine wizard. I don't know what's going on, but I'd rather not be a part of anything—"

"Something private," Ginny said sharply as she slammed a stack of six Galleons on the bar next to Albert's.

"Alright then," replied Tom, his arms held up in defeat. "You're both old enough to make your own decisions." With obvious reluctance, he handed a small key to Ginny. "Just see you don't come complaining to me later. That goes for Harry, too."

"I can take care of myself," she said as she snatched up the key and tucked it into one the inside pockets of her robes. "It's him you should be worried about." Albert smiled slyly and Ginny tried to suppress a disgusted scowl. Grabbing his cloak roughly, she pulled him from his stool and dragged him across the room to the stairs while wizards sitting nearby whispered and laughed. Ginny ignored them. She didn't care what they were saying. Her only thought was on the wizard behind her and what he'd been keeping from her.

She continued up the stairs, tugging Albert behind her. He struggled to keep up with her, eventually tripping and grabbing her shoulder for support. As he got his footing, his hand drifted lower. Ginny paused for an instant as it came to rest on her waist. As she took another step, it slid even lower and she felt it squeeze her gently.

Cheers and whistles erupted from the tables behind them as white hot anger flared within her. Before she could even think of how to react, her hand was flying through the air toward Albert's face. An instant before it hit him, his hand appeared and brought her arm to a sudden stop just inches from his cheek. A second round of laughs echoed from below.

"You've got a good one there, Albert," someone cheered. "Plenty of spirit."

"Let go of my hand," she growled, "or I'll—"

"There will be plenty of time for that soon enough," he said in a loud voice, then turned to look over the railing. "We'll see you lads later."

Ginny could feel the heat radiating off her flushed face. "How dare you—"

Her voice was cut off by a gasp as Albert gave her a light swat. Blinding rage swirled within her. She wanted to pull her wand and hex him into tomorrow. Albert was prodding her up the stairs gently, but it only made her want kick him. When she reached the top of the stairs, she tried. He dodged the attempt easily and blocked the punch that followed it, leaving her off balance and unable to defend herself. He flashed an infuriating smile and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the lips.

An instant later, he had let go of her arms and began making his way toward the rooms. As he walked away, he held up one of his hands. Glittering faintly, she could just make out the shape of the key Tom had given her.

She could barely keep her eyes focused as she strode after him. The whole world had become blurred with a red haze. Though he was walking with a playful swagger, he was moving quite quickly, and despite her fury, he managed to reach the end of the hallway well before her. He deftly unlocked the door and disappeared inside. Seconds later, Ginny reached the door and shoved it open violently. Albert was standing nearby with a markedly sober look on his face.

Ginny slammed the door behind her and walked toward him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the only sound that escaped was a muffled grunt as she drove her fist into his stomach. He doubled over immediately and Ginny responded by throwing her knee against his head and shoving him toward the table. His knees caught on a chair and he tumbled over it, taking the chair and table with him as he crashed onto the dusty floor.

"Still have the bottle," he said, smiling as he lifted the half-empty bottle into the air.

"_Accio Bottle!_" Ginny shouted. It quickly leaped from his hand to hers and she immediately hurled it against the wall where it shattered, showering the floor with amber alcohol.

"That wasn't a very friendly thing to do," Albert said as he began to pick himself up from the floor.

"How dare you talk of friendship," she growled, striding forward to kick one of his legs out from under him. He fell the floor again. Ginny spotted his wand poking out of one of his pockets and quickly grabbed it. After tossing it into the far corner of the room, she turned her attention back to Albert, circling him as he tried to stand up once again. The moment he was back on his feet, she pushed a chair under him and jabbed her wand toward him.

"_Incarcerous!_"

Thin ropes sprang from the tip of her wand and began winding tightly around Albert and the chair, binding his arms behind him. When she was satisfied, she lowered her wand and walked around to face him. Anger was still smoldering inside her and it took quite a bit of her will to keep herself from striking him again.

"You're not Albert," she declared. "You've admitted that much already. Are you really Aleksey Arkadiev? Or is that just another lie? Who exactly are you?"

"A fine question," Albert replied comfortably. "Who are you? What is it that makes us who we are?"

"What is your name?" she asked more forcefully.

Albert stared back at her, a faint flicker of remorse betraying his amused expression. "Is that what defines me? I could give you a name, of course," he said softly, "but the better question is: Would that tell you who I was? Would it be anything but a name? Would it supply you with all of the answers you came here for?"

"It would be a start," she replied. "At least it would be the truth."

"Would it?" he asked, feigning curiosity. "What is a name, anyway? It holds no real value, no truth. It tells no story and conveys no real knowledge. In the end, it's just a name, a word attached to a person and not notably different from a hat perched atop their head. There is nothing substantial about it. So far as truth is concerned, one is just as good as another."

"Then why won't you answer?"

"Because it is not the answer you want," he replied. "You think that there is some bit of crucial meaning to it, some understanding to be gained from it, when in reality it means nothing and serves only to distract you from finding what you're looking for."

"You're a liar," she growled. "You won't tell me because you're still trying to hide the truth."

"No, Ginny," he said with a calm focus. "I won't tell you because it would be a lie. Your thoughts, your feelings, your memories, _those_ are the truth. We were friends, you and I, weren't we? That was real. Would a name change that? Would it change who I am?"

Ginny felt torn between confusion and anger. Was he trying to trick her? What did he want her to do? What would be the point in it?

"It wasn't real, though," she said hesitantly. "It was just an illusion."

"Everything is an illusion, Ginny!" he shot back. "We rarely have the chance to see things for what they really are, and when we do, we rarely like what we see. A name does nothing to fix or prevent that. It is not a manifestation of reality. It is just a name. It is exactly as real as the person or thing you apply it to. It is a reflection of our perceptions and what we declare to be true. The name does not define the person, the person defines the name."

Ginny glared suspiciously at him. "Then what name should I call you?"

"The same name you have always called me. I am Albert, and there is far more truth in that than you can expect from most other things in this world."

"And who is Antonin Alekseyev?" she asked.

Albert gave her a somber smile. "Antonin Alekseyev died a long time ago." Despite the sincerity of his statement, there was something in his eyes. It looked like sadness or perhaps the pain of a forgotten memory brought back to the surface.

"He was your father, wasn't he?" Ginny said. "That is why you're doing this. You're continuing his work."

"No," Albert replied quietly. "No my father would not have approved of my work. I'm not sure even I approve of it."

"Then who is—" Ginny began to ask, but the moment her eyes met his, she could see the answer. She stepped back and nearly dropped her wand.

"It's you," she whispered. "You... are Antonin Alekseyev."

His expression remained blank. "As I said, Antonin Alekseyev died a long time ago. I am someone else —or no one at all."

"What are you?"

A thick silence filled the room as he stared down at his hands. "I don't know," he answered softly. "I have been eagerly awaiting the day when you might finally tell me." Ginny just stood an glared at him, unsure if he was joking or serious. When he looked up again, there was an eerie hollowness behind his eyes.

"What am I? What have I become? After all I have given, what is left?" he asked as he sat tied to the chair, blinking up at her. "How many times have I asked myself those questions. Often, it feels as though I am a piece in a game of chess I cannot even see. Which piece am I, though? A pawn, following the only path given to me? A knight, holding the line by force of will? Or am I the king, directing a battle of someone else's design between forces beyond my comprehension?"

He gave her an empty stare. "It is the last one I fear the most. With each passing day, I become more certain it is closest to the truth and that I am the hand of Fate and yet still bound by it. I have begun something which no one could have ever accomplished by strength or cunning, yet I am powerless to direct its course. I have been forced to watch a smoldering flame grow into a raging inferno as it engulfs and destroys everything around me, knowing that I was the spark that created it."

"Then why don't you fight it?"

"I... can't," he replied. "It has to burn. It has to destroy. That is its nature. I may not have known the consequences when it began, but I cannot change the past. No one can change the past. It is not my place to even try. To stop it would be—" He paused, shaking his head slowly. "No. I have no choice. It has to destroy. This is the way it must be. Some fights are worth losing. This is the path which has been given to me."

"Are you mad?" she said as she strode across the room to stand in front of him again. "Do you have any idea what this thing has done? Do you know what it's capable of?"

He nodded and stared at her with unblinking eyes. "I have heard many accounts of the attacks, and I know that the worst is yet to come."

His cold apathy grated on her. "And yet you do nothing? You haven't tried to stop it or even tell anyone what was happening? You decided to sit here and drink, letting the world burn to the ground around you? What were you waiting for?"

Albert's eyes flickered. "I was waiting to hand the torch to you," he said.

There was something about the way he spoke that sent a chill down Ginny's spine. She backed away from him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that my part is nearly finished. That was the reason behind my celebration today. I knew from the very start that I wouldn't be asked to see this to the end. If I were to try, I would fail. It isn't my choice. It isn't my task. It is yours."

"Me?" Ginny croaked. "Why me?"

"I can't really say, Ginny," he said softly. "No one can. None of this makes much sense. All we can say is that we all have our parts to play. One might suggest that it is your duty because no one else was capable of it, much in the way that Harry is uniquely suited to his role. That still does not answer the real question of why such things are needed. I don't know if you will ever find any answers, but I hope that you might find peace at the end of this."

"That's very comforting," she snapped. "So you knew about the cloaked wizard all this time?" He nodded slowly and Ginny felt a fresh wave of outrage flowing through her. "You knew about the Veils? You knew what he was doing to the Brotherhood? Is that why you didn't return when all the others did?" she asked, getting more nods. Livid, Ginny walked closer to him, leaning forward to force him to look at her. "Have you been... _helping_ him?"

"Yes and no."

"_That's not an answer,_" Ginny snapped. "Either you're helping him or you're not. No more lies. No more deception. Now answer the bloody question!"

"It's not that simple, Ginny," he said calmly.

"Let me make it that simple," Ginny shouted, drawing her wand and pointing it at his chest. She wasn't sure just what she was threatening him with, but it didn't really matter. He glanced down at the wand with passive amusement.

"It is a matter of perspective," he began lightly. "You would say that I have been helping him, but he would argue the opposite quite vehemently. I hid my actions from you because I knew you would try to stop me. I hid my actions from him because they have not invented words for the horrific things he would do to me if he knew."

"And that makes it justified?" she asked. "It's alright to help him because he would still hate you? You've seen all the people he's killed, yet you still help him. How can you live with yourself?"

"It's not easy, I assure you," he replied. "How do you manage?"

Ginny clenched her fists. "I haven't done _anything_ for him."

"Haven't you?" Albert replied with a smile. Ginny's arm tensed, ready to punch it off his face. "Without you, he would already be destroyed. Does it matter that you're unaware of the aid you've given him? Does that make me worse than you?"

"You've helped him _kill people!_" Ginny shouted. "Whatever you think I've done, at least I've tried to fight him. You _knew_ what you were doing, so yes, that does make you worse."

"I am not innocent," he continued. "You may be for now, but before the end, you will do things far worse than I have."

"You can see the future, can you?"

"Not the future, no," he replied. "But I know what needs to happen and what you need to do to stop it."

Ginny backed away and stared at him, bewildered by what he had said. It didn't make sense. How could he know so much, yet not the most important things? In her confusion, she was reminded of how Harry had described the man who claimed to heal Evelyn in St. Mungo's. Her eyes jerked back to Albert, eying him suspiciously.

"Is it all you, then?" she asked. "Are you this Seer or Priest or whoever it is?"

"No, and it seems I never will be," he answered cryptically.

"But you left that stone arch in Gringotts," she said. "You left a message for Harry and you used your real name."

"Yes, that was me," he admitted.

"And you were the old man who found Valencia when you came to vandalize the _History of Magic_ in Barcelona."

"No," he said, shaking his head, "that was not me. I was there, but I was just a young man looking for answers. At the time, I didn't know I was being followed. The other wizard —the Priest or Seer as Harry called him— had come to put an end to my curiosity. He hadn't expected to stumble across Valencia. I owe her my life."

"She'd be happy to take it," Ginny replied in an acidic tone.

"Yes, I suppose she would," Albert continued. "It is tragic what happened to her, and yet it could have been much worse. Others have suffered much more, though in most cases they deserved what they got."

"Is that what this is about?" Ginny said, gaping at him. "Another arrogant attempt to fix the world by choosing which wizards live or die?" Then, before he could answer, a horrible thought came to her. "You were there. You were in Romania when Grigore Tarus died," she whispered. "Josef said it was your idea to destroy the Veil. You _wanted_ to free the cloaked wizard. What did you think he would do? Did you think he would obey you? Did you think he would only kill the people you wanted him to?"

"No, you misunderstand," Albert replied. "I didn't want this to happen. I had no desire for the death and destruction he has caused, but I had no choice. _It had to be done._ I recognized that the time was right and did what needed to be done —what no one else would have the courage to do. The consequences of failing would be too great for you to imagine."

"And who gave you that job?" she asked. "Why did you have to be the one responsible for killing hundreds of wizards?"

"Because I am the one who started it!" he replied sharply. "You can't see it yet, but you will. These events are driven by a force much greater than me, but I am still the one who began it. I cannot stop it now. I cannot resist. It's too late. I have no choice. It is my punishment."

"Punishment for what? What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "It is in the past. It cannot be undone."

"_What did you do?_" she yelled, surprised at just how much anger had built inside her.

He stared up at her with a look of disgust in her eyes. "He should have died. That was the way it was supposed to be."

Something in the way he said it frightened Ginny. "Who are you talking about? Who should have died?"

Albert sat still, staring up at her, his eyes filled with remorse. "I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought it was for the best. I thought it would turn out alright, but I hadn't planned on you. I forgot to think about what would happen when you got involved. I never considered the pain you would be put through —and how I'd have to watch it happen. You were supposed to be just another pawn in the game. I didn't— I never expected to admire you. You are a good witch, one of the very best. You deserve to be happy, Ginny. Please understand, if there was a way I could have given that to you, I would have. Now, it's too late. I have no choice anymore. There is only one way. It won't be easy for me, but my part is nothing compared to the ordeal you face."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, her teeth clenched in anger.

"I'm trying to say that I'm sorry, Ginny," he replied. "He should have died with his parents. You would have been happier. You could have lived a normal life."

White hot anger blazed inside Ginny as she stared down at Albert, his eyes still locked on hers filled with some emotion which was supposed to pass as care, just moments after declaring that she would have been happier without Harry. She had trusted him. She had turned to him for help and he had pretended to be her friend. The thought that he had spent every minute wishing that the man she loved had been killed cut into her. She felt betrayed. His face asked forgiveness, not for wishing for Harry's death, but for failing to do it long ago.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said again.

The desire to slap him became irresistible, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was already swinging her arm viciously at his face. She had been prepared for the hard shock of the blow, but at the very instant before striking him, his face seemed to slide away, just out of her reach. Unable to control her unused momentum, she spun past him and struggled to keep her feet. She wavered for a moment, took a short step, and finally regained her balance just a split second before a heavy boot struck the back of her knee toppling her in an instant.

From the floor of the room, she saw Albert stand up, casting aside the ropes she'd conjured as if they were unwanted garments. While she pushed herself up off the floor, he was already striding across the room, dragging the chair behind him for reasons which Ginny didn't have time to ponder. The only thing that mattered was the fact that he was halfway to his wand. Leaping up, she pulled her wand and took aim at his back.

"_Stupefy!_"

He had obviously been waiting for her to try this. Before she'd even finished the spell, Albert had darted to one side and dropped the chair to the floor. Ginny's hex missed him by a foot or more and instead shattered a nearby lamp plunging half the room into darkness. Ginny shifted to try again before he could recover his wand. She heard the sharp, distinct sound of wood scraping across stone, but failed to understand the danger before she saw the dim shape of the chair sliding directly toward her. There was no time to react. The heavy oak struck her in the shin, eliciting a pained shriek as she tumbled to the floor once more.

With tears streaming down her face from the pain, she forced herself to her feet once more, focusing all her anger at Albert. With a stab of panic, she realized that he would have had more than enough time to reach his wand. She froze suddenly, knowing that she had only one more chance. As she raised her wand, she saw Albert leap toward her.

"_Stupefy!_" she cried again.

It was too late. With a single deft movement, he managed to push Ginny's arm aside, aiming her final Stunner into an empty corner of the room. Another hand quickly grasped her shoulder and twisted her arm cruelly. The pain grew until her hand betrayed her and opened, letting her wand drop to the floor.

She let out a piercing shriek, mostly out of anger and frustration, but it seemed to make Albert pause for a moment. In that split second of hesitation, she swung her leg and managed to connect with his knee. His legs buckled and Ginny managed to pull her arm free. Her arm reached for her wand but it quickly clattered away, kicked by Albert after he regained his balance. Rage flowing through her veins, she wrapped her hands around his ankle and pulled with all her strength.

Albert lost his balance and began swaying forward. For a moment, it looked as though he would step directly onto her chest, but at the last second, he fell forward, his foot landing inches from her waist before he collapsed onto the floor on the opposite side of her. Ginny scrambled to her feet and began running toward her wand. Only halfway to her goal, she heard a sharp voice call out behind her.

"_Locomotor Mortis!_"

She felt as if something heavy struck her in the thigh and she, too, fell back to the floor. Her legs, however, remained noticeably movable. The cloak had protected her again, but now she was tangled in it. Quickly freeing herself, she prepared to make one final lunge for her wand. A dozen hexes were already filling her mind. She no longer wished to stun or immobilize her former friend. She would hurt him as he had hurt her. She pushed off the floor, just a feet from her wand. Almost instantly, she felt a sharp tug on her neck and she fell down again, choking and gasping for breath.

"That bloody cloak," growled Albert. "I've had enough of it." Still struggling to breathe, Ginny's head spun around and found Albert clutching the bottom of her cloak. He gave a sharp tug at it and Ginny felt the clasp dig into her neck as the distinctive sound of ripping fabric filled the room. A second later, the tension disappeared.

"The cloak," Albert whispered after a moment of silence. "Give me the cloak, _now._" His wand was pointed directly at her, but all of his attention was focused on a ragged tear in her cloak, about the length of her hand. "Give it to me," he repeated slowly.

With a scowl on her face, Ginny slowly removed the cloak and handed it to him. Part of her wanted to risk another dive at her wand, but she doubted that Albert would make the same mistake twice. With her cloak removed, she was now at his mercy, though this held little fear for her. He could have killed her twice now but still refused to give her anything more than a bruise. Whatever other lies he might have told her, she still believed that he didn't want to hurt her.

"What do you want?" she asked. He didn't answer. Instead, he simply looked down at the cloak, examining the rough tear as if it were somehow troubling to him. Without saying anything or even looking at Ginny, he stepped around her, picked up her wand and wrapped the cloak around it, making a tight bundle which he clutched in his free hand.

"You're free," she said. "You've got my wand. I can't attack you. Either tell me what you want or let me go."

Albert looked up at her and blinked slowly. "What I want..." he mumbled.

"The idea of getting what I want is so foreign to me that I admit I no longer know what it would really be. I get what I need. I do what must be done. Desire is a luxury I haven't had for a long time."

"Then what are we doing here?" she replied.

"I knew you would find out," he said quietly. "I knew the day would come when you would find out about Antonin. Part of me wanted it to happen, but the other... knew that it would only be the doorway to more pain. I knew it wouldn't be the end. It is just the beginning. You have to find the truth, but you cannot follow. It's not my job —not my fate. I don't want to hurt you, Ginny," he said, looking sincerely sad. "I wish I had a choice—"

"You _do_ have a choice," she replied, trying to hide the fear creeping up her spine. "You don't have to do this. You can live your own life. You can be happy. What is it that you truly want?"

"I want—" he began haltingly. His eyes met hers and for a moment, she saw the intense weariness that had been there all this time, hiding behind the disguise he had been wearing. "I want you to take off your robes," he said flatly.

"My robes, but— Why do—" she stammered.

He returned an apologetic look. "I am truly sorry that I must resort to such crude measures, but I must insist that you give me your clothes —all of them."

When she hesitated, he quickly raised his wand. The tip wavered unsteadily, but his face was cold and resolute. "I beg you, Ginny, do not make me force you to do this."

Her fingers shaking with anger and terror, Ginny began removing her robes. When she was finished, she dropped them to the ground. With a flick of his wand, Albert incinerated them. He let out a long, deep breath and then raised his wand again. When she continued disrobing, Albert looked away, staring instead at her shadow on the far wall. As she removed each garment, he would quickly incinerate it.

"You may leave your socks," he said quietly. "The night will be cold and these rooms can be drafty."

Ginny glared sharply at him, not knowing if this was his attempt to ridicule her or appear merciful. He didn't see this reaction as he was too busy burning the drapes and large rug near the window, then moving onto the bed clothes. Only after every scrap of fabric in the room had been destroyed did he venture a brief look toward her to see her expression. Seeing her, he quickly turned away and walked to the door.

"I hope that one day you might understand why I have done this," he said quietly.

"Why don't you explain it to me?"

"I wish that I could," he replied, facing the door.

"Perhaps you can have Tom explain it," she said in a slightly threatening tone. "I wonder what he would think if I screamed for help."

"There very little to wonder about. It's no mystery who he would support. There is nothing I can say to comfort either of you," he replied. "I can only say that I have not hurt you. I have no desire to restrain you, but you cannot follow me. There is nothing to prevent you from running down to Tom. I have no doubt that you would find plenty of aid and sympathy, though I will not lie to you about this: the pub is not empty and I suspect you would be forced to deal with the embarrassment for the rest of your life."

"And just how much longer will that be?" Ginny said in a wavering tone.

Albert paused, then turned and quickly walked right up next to her, his eyes never straying from her face. "Does anyone really know?" he whispered. "Would knowing really change so much? How much would you give for another day? Another week? Even a year or ten?" He reached out to push a lock of hair from her eyes. "Let this be my last lesson to you: A life is precious and every second is worth more than a vault of gold, but that is only because we make it so. Anyone who would trade something they loved for a day more than they were given has lost more than they will ever understand."

Before Ginny could reply, he had spun around quickly and was walking back to the door. "I must go now. Once I have reached my destination, I will send word to Harry and Josef. One of them will come to free you. Until then, I beg you to remain here. You are safe within this room."

"Where are you going?" she asked. It felt like a pointless question, but she refused to let herself appear weak and defeated. She was shocked when she received an actual answer.

"I am going to my father's library," he said simply. "I hope that when I see you there, you will think better of me." Without waiting for a response, he quickly opened the door and slipped out of the room. Ginny heard the faint click of metal as the key turned in the lock and then watched as he slid it back under the door.

* * *

Ginny stood in the darkest corner of the room, her hands balled up into tight fists while she shook with anger, fear, and embarrassment. She remained there, not moving or doing anything at all except thinking of everything she would do to Albert if his last words came true and she ever did see him again.

After some time, her anger began to cool and she started wondering just how long she would have to wait for someone to come and find her. What if it was just another lie? What if Albert had only told her that he would send someone for her to keep her from going to find help as soon as she could? New anger began to boil in her stomach as her doubt grew. His plan had already worked. Though it felt longer, she guessed that he had left only twenty minutes earlier. That was still more than enough time to cross all of Europe and disappear completely.

Ginny hit her head against the wall. She had been tricked into huddling in the corner while he escaped, trapped by nothing more than embarrassment and her foolish hopes that someone would come to save her. A new emotion, shame, began to flow through her. She had failed. He had manipulated her again, and she had obeyed.

Still, the thought of leaving the room and facing the crowd in the pub below her was no less frightening than facing the wand of the wizard who had just betrayed her. At least if Albert had stunned her she wouldn't have to face the humiliation of failure and the admission of being so easily deceived. She began thinking of other possible ways of escape. She could wait for someone else to walk down the corridor. Surely her exposed state would be easier to bear with just one person rather than dozens. Perhaps she could simply call out to Tom and hope that no one else followed to investigate. It wouldn't really matter what he saw. The only reason she still came to the _Leaky Cauldron_ was to speak with Albert. She could easily avoid it in the future.

Deciding that she could not longer wait, she stepped out of her corner and approached the door. With her hand only inches from the handle, she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded. Should she call out? Could she trust the sort of wizard who would be walking down the corridor in the _Leaky Cauldron_ at night? It certainly wasn't the worst place in London, but there were quite a few unsavory types who stayed there. Just as she decided that it would be best to wait and call for Tom instead, the door trembled with a pair of soft knocks.

"Ginny?" a voice whispered. "Are you there?"

"Yes," she replied immediately.

The doorknob twisted and shook, but the door remained shut. "The door is locked," the voice said. Suddenly remembering the key, Ginny knelt down to pick it up and try to slide it under the door.

"_Alohamora!_"

She had barely let go of the key when she heard the lock click and the door began to swing open. A panicked gasp escaped from her throat as she leaped back before the heavy door struck her. When she looked up at the wizard in the doorway, she tried to gasp a second time, but her throat had tightened to the point she couldn't even breathe. She tried to scream, but the only sound she managed to produce was a faint shriek.

Josef looked equally surprised to see her. After a brief pause, he quickly stepped into the room and closed the door. Ginny quickly retreated and turned away from him, pressing her arms tightly across her chest. Josef just stood completely still, a statue of confusion and uncertainty.

"I— I didn't—" he stammered. Still blinking at her in stunned surprise, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of parchment. "I got your message," he said slowly.

"My message?" Ginny replied as burning heat spread across her face and spilled down her chest and back.

"You said you wanted me—" he began, pausing to swallow, "—to meet you here."

"No," Ginny replied quickly, struggling to control her embarrassment "I didn't send it. It was Albert —or Aleksey —or Antonin. They're all the same. Albert is Antonin Alekseyev. I tried to confront him, but he escaped and left me like this."

The admission of her appearance seemed to wake Josef from his stupor. He quickly pulled off his robes and tossed them to Ginny, leaving himself with only a pair of heavy, utilitarian trousers and no shirt at all. Ginny found the trade to be more than fair and immediately wrapped the robes around her shoulders. They were far too large for her, but she didn't care. As she worked on the buttons, she quickly explained what had happened between her and Albert, omitting all the things he had said about Harry. Josef listened intently, keeping his eyes on the floor until she was finished and walked over closer to him.

"He said he was going to tell you and Harry," she said softly. "I guess I figured he would have been the one to show up. Is he here, too?"

"No," Josef said stiffly, averting his eyes again. He reached down and unbuckled the belt he was wearing and handed it to Ginny. "I haven't seen Harry tonight."

Ginny took the belt and wrapped it around her waist, pulling the robes tight. She was close enough to Josef that she could see the tension in his jaw muscles as he clenched his teeth. He was angry about something. At first she thought he was feeling betrayed by Albert, too, but it hadn't started until she asked about Harry.

"What is it?" she asked. "Where is Harry?"

Josef looked up for a moment. "Probably searching for Justinian," he said with obvious frustration. "He was convinced that Justinian was the key. Sometimes he gets so fixated on something, he can't see the bigger picture. Perhaps if he had been paying closer attention, he would have been the one to come for you." Josef frowned and gave Ginny an apologetic look. "Harry is not selfish, but a little selfishness is a good thing. He tries to help everyone, and sometimes, he forgets that he should spend a little more time and energy protecting himself and the people who mean the most to him." Turning back toward the door, Josef let out a long sigh. "I've tried to tell him, but he won't listen. It is simply who he is. He won't change."

"I know," Ginny said softly. "He'll feel horrible when he finds out, but he'll be happy to know that you came for me, even if he forgets to say it."

"He will," Josef replied.

"Then I'll do it for him," she said with a smile. "Thank you, Josef. You're a good friend and a good wizard."

Josef smiled back at her. "You're welcome," he said. "Now, we need to get back to Grimmauld Place before Harry realizes what's happened and begins planning an assault on the _Leaky Cauldron_."

Following him down the stairs into the pub, Ginny got a dozen stares and a handful of leering eyes. Josef walked at her side, his wand drawn and a stern look on his face. Behind the bar, Tom looked frightened and said nothing. At the foot of the stairs, an old wizard sitting at a nearby table let out a hoarse laugh.

"The night's still young and she's already on her second wizard," he wheezed. "I don't know about the rest of 'em, but I'll be here all night if she's lookin' for a third —or fourth. I'm not picky. It's been a—"

The old man didn't get to finish. In a flash, Josef in front of Ginny and swung his fist into the man's jaw and throwing his head back against the table. Blood tricked from an empty socket where one of his few remaining teeth had been while Josef raised his wand.

"Josef, no!" Ginny shouted, remembering the guard in Barcelona. She wrapped her hands around his arm, pushing his wand away from the man.

He stood there for a moment, breathing deeply and looking from Ginny to the old man and back. Slowly, he pushed Ginny aside and raised his wand again. She gave him a pleading look, but he ignored her. Seconds later, a pair of ropes burst from the tip of his wand and wrapped tightly around the man's elbows. With a flick of the wand, the ropes leaped up to the ceiling, pulling the man with them. As he hung there, twisting, Josef gave his wand one last twirl. The man's robes instantly turned into a long dress made with ivory lace and covered with fascia bows. Not a single person in the pub laughed.

Josef grabbed Ginny's shoulder firmly and led her to the door which would take them to Diagon Alley. Once they were outside and approaching the Apparation point, they could finally hear a few voices coming from the other side of the door, but Josef didn't break his stride.

"You're going to have to hold on to me," he said in a low voice. "We'll be back home in just a few moments."

Ginny wrapped her hands around Josef's arm and felt his muscles tense up. After one last look toward the _Leaky Cauldron_ and a final look down at her to see that she was ready, he looked up and Disapparated.

* * *

Ginny heard Harry's voice coming from the kitchen as soon as she walked into the old house. He sounded angry and she knew that seeing her in her current state would only make him even more angry. Josef had come to the same conclusion and quickly reached for a nearby Shield Cloak. He tossed it to Ginny and pointed her toward the stairs. She began running up them as quietly as she could.

"_Psst!_"

Ginny turned around and saw Josef beginning to follow her, pointing toward his bare chest. Ginny understood immediately and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. At the top, she began unbuckling the belt. After turning the corner, she quickly stripped off the robes and tossed them blindly down the stairs while she covered herself in the cloak. She took a moment to look over the banister and see Josef quickly slipping into the robes and trying to smooth them out as he called out to Harry.

Ginny ran to the bedroom and quickly found new clothes to put on. As she approached the stairs, she could hear Harry's voice echoing up and asking where she had gone. She turned around and dashed back into the room, rummaging through the drawer of potions she kept nearby. Finding one for bruises, she ran back to the stairs and began hobbling down them. Before she had taken more than a few steps, Harry was at the bottom looking up at her.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"Bruise Abatement Broth," she replied, holding up the small bottle and limping down the next step.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a tense voice.

"I'll be fine, Harry," she replied. "It's nothing serious. It's just a bruise." She recognized the expression on his face. He knew something important had happened and he wanted to do something about it. The last thing any of them needed was to have Harry run off on a foolish attempt to track down Albert.

"Then perhaps you can explain this," he said, holding up her wand and the Shield Cloak Josef had given her in one hand. In his other hand, he held a short note written in elegant strokes on a piece of parchment. As Ginny reached the bottom of the stairs, she was able to read it:

_There is still time to save her._

_- Antonin_

"What does that mean?" he asked. "How did he get your wand?"

Ginny tried to think of a good place to begin. She looked at Josef, but he shrugged and shook his head. She decided that it was best to start at the end and see where they went from there.

"I found Antonin," she announced.

Harry's jaw dropped. "What? Where? How?"

"His name is Antonin Alekseyev," she said, "but he's also Albert and Aleksey, from the Brotherhood. He's been watching us all this time."

"How did you learn that?"

"I didn't," she admitted. "It was sort of an accident. Josef said he remembered meeting Albert's father, but Albert said his father had been killed by Grigore Tarus. There were some other things, too, and I went to find Albert to ask him about them."

"And when you found him, he took your wand and cloak."

"And locked me in a room while he escaped, yes," Ginny finished.

"Did he hurt you?" Harry asked as he stared into her eyes. For a moment, she was frightened by the anger she saw building in them.

"No."

"Why do you need the potion, then?"

"It's a bruise, Harry," she said. "He wasn't trying to hurt me. I was the one who attacked him. He just escaped."

* * *

Harry let out a long sigh of frustration. He had wasted weeks looking for any sign of Justinian and come up with nothing. Justinian, though, had never been of much interest. He had been convinced that the former professor might lead him to the enigmatic Antonin. The fact that Ginny had not only found Antonin without telling him was only slightly less annoying than the realization that he'd been so close to them all this time.

He wanted to be angry, but there was no one to be angry with. Ginny obviously hadn't known Aleksey's identity either. Her face was still pink, a clear indication of the anger and disgust she felt over the news. She probably felt betrayed and hurt, as well. She had looked up to the older wizard. Perhaps it was for the best that Josef had come to find her first. Harry might not have been able to remain calm if he'd seen Ginny upset.

There wasn't much he could do about that now. The important thing was that they'd filled in a little more of the story. They had found Antonin. It wasn't difficult to see how he had known what they were up to. He had been following them through Ginny, using her to know just how close they were all getting. Once they got too close, he used one last moment of friendship to slip away.

"Do you have any idea where he went?" Harry asked. "Do you remember anything at all? Was he wearing anything strange or mention anything about—"

For a moment, she seemed reluctant to reply. Then, with a small sigh, she began speaking. "It sounded like he was headed back to Russia," she said. "He said he was going back to his father's library. I can't say we'll ever know for certain, but I think he was actually telling me the truth before when he said his father died when he was quite young and still living in Russia. I have to assume that's where this library will be." She turned toward Josef. "It also sounded like he expected us to know where he was going. Do you still remember the castle where he let you stay? Could you find it?"

"I think so," Josef replied with a solemn nod, "as long as he hasn't done anything to hide it from us."

"Hold on," Harry said. "What castle is this?"

"The one Josef lived in after—" Ginny stopped abruptly as Josef's eyes darted toward her.

Harry stared at her, waiting for her to finish. "After _what_?" he finally prompted, beginning to look a little upset. When Ginny refused to look at him, he turned on Josef. "What is she talking about?"

"When I was young," Josef began, "Aleksey took me to live with him for a month or so. I met a man who claimed to Aleksey's father. That was the first time I heard the name Antonin Alekseyev. That's how we found him."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" He couldn't decide which of them to be angry at.

"Because we didn't know who he really was," Josef replied, stepping in front of Ginny. "He was just Aleksey or Albert, a strange hermit of a man. When he took me to the castle, I thought it belonged to the Brotherhood."

That was logical enough, but Harry immediately knew it didn't address the real reason he was upset. "Why did she know about it, but not me?"

"Because she listened," Josef replied sharply. "You were always too focused on her safety or whatever Grigore was teaching you to pay much attention to me." Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Josef didn't give him a chance. "I don't blame you, Harry," he said. "If I were in your place, it wouldn't have seemed important to me, either. It wasn't your fault, just as it isn't our fault that Ginny and I didn't tell you about this. At the time, it simply wasn't important."

Harry closed his eyes. Josef was right. He was angry and not thinking straight. That had been happening more often lately. It seemed that he failed at everything he tried to do and no one was around to help him, not even Ginny. Of course, that could be explained simply by his mood.

Things were falling apart. He needed rest. So did Ginny and Josef, yet none of them were getting as much as necessary. He was certain that Hermione wasn't any better, and Ron wasn't blind or ignorant enough to see what was happening to all of them. Simon was dead. Valencia could barely control herself. Lupin and Tonks were shaken and the last Harry had heard, had been fighting enough that McGonagall requested that Tonks be reassigned to Hogsmeade.

The closer they got to stopping the cloaked wizard, the worse everything got. Harry began to wonder if things would have been better if he'd simply refused to join the Brotherhood. At the very worst, he would have been killed, but there would have been no reason for anyone to go to Romania and accidentally release this ancient curse on the world.

He couldn't help but think that some of this was his fault, but there was nothing he could do about that now. You can't change the past, all you can do is try to fix the future. The question was: how was he supposed to do that? Both the cloaked wizard and this new wizard, Antonin, always seemed to be one step ahead of him. What did they know that Harry didn't? How was he supposed to find any answers when both of them were trying to hide them from him? Or were they?

"You're certain that Aleksey —Albert— is the same Antonin from the note in Gringotts?" he asked slowly.

"I mean, I—" Ginny said, caught a little off guard. "I can't be certain. He's lied about a lot of things, but he did admit to it."

"And he didn't hurt you?"

"No," she replied firmly. "He just... kept me from following him."

"It's another message," Harry thought aloud. "He's giving us clues and waiting for us to figure out what they mean. He wants us to follow him."

"Well, he's done a pretty poor job so far," commented Josef.

"Maybe not," Harry replied. "Maybe he's better at it than we realized. What if he wanted you to find out who he was all this time? If he wanted to stay hidden, why approach Ginny? He kept that old broken archway in Gringotts even though he had to know that the goblins would find it sooner or later. He even left a note written to me. He _wants_ us to follow him. So that's what we're going to do." He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out one of the Shield Cloaks.

"We're going now?" Ginny asked, sounding both tired and eager. "What about Ron and Hermione? It'll take a couple hours to fetch Lupin and Tonks."

"No," Harry replied. "We go right now. No Ron or Hermione and no Lupin and Tonks. He told you where he was going, he gave me a message to get me to come back here, and I assume Josef got a message telling him where you were trapped. He picked us and I'm not going to risk anyone else's life unless I've got a good reason to. Now, let's go," he said, tossing Ginny's wand and cloak to her, "there's no time to waste."

"Harry," Josef began in a slow, cautious voice, "I think you're being a little hasty, here —both of you are."

"Maybe I am," Harry said with a nod, "but months of being patient haven't done anything to help us. He's laying a path for us. We need to follow it before it goes cold."

Josef looked skeptical. "It's easy to say that, but none of the hints you mentioned looked clear at the time. What makes you think this one will be? After everything we've seen, I can't expect we'll find him in Russia. It just doesn't make any sense. If he wanted to talk to us, why not just come here and do it? Why the chase? What's the point of all of it?"

"Maybe it's not him we're looking for," Harry challenged.

"That's very possible, Harry," Josef said in frustration, "but all you can do is guess and _that_ hasn't done anything to help us either. From my point of view, you're just running off after the wizard who attacked Ginny. You haven't changed at all. You're ready to run off on a hunt, and you don't even have the slightest clue what you're hunting for."

"You're wrong about that this time," he said with a smile. "I'm certain that we're looking for this." Harry pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and unfolded it on the table. In the light of the flickering lamps, the haphazard script was easily readable:

_742_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So, I delivered on the Ginny/Albert scenes, but perhaps not in the way people might have expected (or feared). I expect that this chapter will be both increase and decrease overall confusion. There are quite a few more answers here than it seems at first. The revelation of Antonin's identity really changes quite a few things in the story and if you look (or think) back, you can see his influence in quite a few different places. At the same time, some people may find themselves wondering about even more. He doesn't really explain himself, so why did he do it? Those answers are still coming. Just be patient. We're down to the last four chapters now. Things will start happening quickly.


	19. The Lost Library

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 19**

**The Lost Library**

* * *

In the darkened parlor at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Harry sat completely silent, staring dejectedly at the flames crackling in the fireplace. More than a week had passed since Antonin Alekseyev had slipped away from them. Since then, their luck had not noticeably improved. If anything it had gotten worse, leaving Harry in a state of bitter frustration.

The night Ginny had confronted Antonin, they traveled to the place Josef remembered staying as a child. However, instead of finding the large stone mansion he had described, they found only a large pit filled with rubble and debris. Discouraged but not defeated, they returned to London and began searching in earnest.

Over the next week they found and searched over two dozen libraries in Russia and Eastern Europe. They scoured each one, searching for anything that might have something to do with the number seven-hundred forty-two. They became so persistent that the Russian Ministry had taken note and contacted Ferdinand Harrington to issue a formal complaint. Undaunted, they simply continued their searches at night.

In the end, they still had absolutely nothing. In fact, they had less than nothing. Not only had they failed to find the library Antonin mentioned, but they had run through every last idea they had managed to come up with. They had wasted more than a week. For all they knew, the cloaked wizard had already found the Jewel while they were sneaking around Russia, struggling with a riddle given to them by someone who claimed to be helping them. He heard the creak of the door and soft footsteps entering the room, but didn't take his eyes off the fire.

"Is that all for today?" Ginny asked softly. "It's not even midnight."

"Yes, that's all," Harry replied gruffly, "but not just for today." He didn't need to see her face to know how she reacted.

"But... there has to be—"

"No," he said in a sharper tone than he intended, "there aren't any more libraries to search. We're not even looking at libraries anymore, Ginny. We're breaking into deserted mansions just because the former owners enjoyed a good story. Are we supposed to start searching all cellars that have a bookshelf now?"

"Maybe we missed something," she suggested. "Some of the first ones were quite large. If—"

"There's nothing we missed which wouldn't take us a hundred years to find. We simply don't have that much time."

Ginny's response was strained. "We have to do _something._ Sitting here isn't going to help us at all."

"And neither is tramping about in another dusty library," he replied, his patience waning quickly. "If he wanted us to find him, we would have found him already."

"That's it, then. There never was anything to look for, was there?" Ginny asked, sounding defeated. "Do you think it was just a lie to buy him time to escape?"

Harry was about to say that he thought it was, but he stopped himself. "No," he finally answered. "What would be the point of it? We had no idea where he went. If he would have said nothing, we'd have nothing to look for. We'd have no better chance to find him."

"Maybe—" she began, wringing her hands as she thought, "—maybe he was trying to keep us from finding something else. Maybe we were close to finding something and he wanted to distract us."

"What we were close to finding was _him,_" said Harry. "What is the point of leaving a false trail? He had to know that we'd eventually figure out that he wasn't in Russia. When that happened, we'd just go back to doing what we were doing before, which was tracking him." Harry paused as a thought struck him. "What if— What if he just wanted to delay us? The note... the broken arch in Gringotts... He wanted us to figure something out, just not quite yet."

"Imagining conspiracies again, Harry?"

Harry finally tore his eyes from the fireplace and found Josef standing just inside the doorway.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Harry replied. "And if you'll remember, I was right about Razvan and Grigore."

"Yes," Josef agreed, "and I never really disagreed with you about them. I just said the same thing I'll say to you now: Even if you're right, there's nothing we can do about it. It really doesn't improve our situation or solve the problem at hand."

"We need help," Harry announced.

"I agree," Josef replied with a nod, "but there isn't anyone we can trust."

"Then we'll have to find someone we can't trust."

Josef rubbed his eyes and began pacing in front of the fire. "And what do we do if they find something?"

"We investigate," replied Harry. "We've got nothing else to do."

"But how do we know they're really trying to help us and not just leading us into a trap?"

"We don't," Harry answered with a blank stare. "That's why we don't trust them. I thought we already agreed on that."

Josef glared back at him. "Right. And just what do we do if it's not a trap?"

"Then perhaps we should start trusting them."

Josef returned a disapproving frown. "You want to go to Hermione, don't you?"

"We need the help."

"We talked about this, Harry. We don't know how much longer she'll be in control of herself, if she even is now."

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Harry challenged. "Even if we're wrong, finding a trap is better than finding nothing at all, which we do quite well on our own. Our current strategy hasn't been what anyone would call successful."

"We're still alive," Josef shot back.

"For now," Harry commented. "How long will that last? How much longer can we wait? We don't have any other plan."

"It's a risk."

Harry let out a deep breath. "I think I've reached the point where I'm ready to take a few more risks. I say we do it."

"I say we don't," Josef replied. "You're tired and frustrated. Give me a day and I'll come up with an idea that doesn't require us to put our safety in the hands of a witch whose mind and soul is being devoured by our enemy."

Harry made gave no response, but simply turned to look at Ginny. Seconds later, Josef did the same thing. She stood silently for some time, looking from Harry to Josef and back. Her head lowered a little, she blinked slowly and turned toward Josef.

"We need help, Josef," she said softly. "I think we can still trust her."

Josef frowned and began walking away. "This is a mistake," he said as he reached the door, "but if you are convinced this is the only way, I'll do my best to keep you alive while doing it. I just hope I'm wrong."

* * *

"They just Apparated across the street," Ginny announced as she walked into the kitchen. After sending a message to Ron and Hermione late the previous night, they had waited the entire morning for the two of them to arrive. Harry was sitting at the table, as he had been since coming down to the kitchen that morning. Ginny had been sitting with him, drinking tea and sharing a couple apples before hearing the harsh ringing which alerted them that someone had Apparated nearby. Josef, however, had spent the last hour standing in the far corner.

"Are you going to sit down or continue sulking?" she asked him.

"I'm not sulking," Josef replied gloomily.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Please don't tell me that you're upset that I agreed with Harry and not you." Josef just frowned and looked away.

"He's not upset with you," Harry said from the table. "He's upset with me for disagreeing with him. He's used to getting his way."

"If I'm upset with anyone," Josef began, "it is myself. This is a mistake. I knew it was from the moment Harry suggested it. He created a situation where he will get what he wants no matter what happens —and I let him talk the both of us into it."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Involving Hermione is a serious risk because we don't know if we can trust her," Josef began to explain. "However, Harry's impatient and out of ideas, so instead of looking for a better solution, he's taking the easiest one. If our fears are true, she'll lead us all to our deaths."

"And if she's fine, then she might actually help us find where Antonin went," Harry argued.

"Even then," Josef shot back, "we may be leading the cloaked wizard to the only people who can help us."

"What was that?" Ron asked as he stepped into the kitchen. "Is... _he_ coming here?"

"That remains to be seen," Josef commented darkly.

When Ginny turned back to Ron, she spotted a hooded witch standing behind him. It took her a moment to recognize Hermione. Her eyes peered out from under her hood, scanning the room with apprehension. As she stepped into the room, Ginny saw Ron's eyes watching her closely. There was a protectiveness about his stance that Ginny found a little disheartening. He was worried about Hermione. He knew what was happening to her and knew there was nothing he could do about it. He spotted Ginny looking at him and quickly turned his attention toward Harry.

"What is it?" Ron asked. "You said you needed to talk about something. Is it the cloaked wizard?"

Harry looked over at Josef and Josef returned a stony gaze. "No, not him," he said slowly. "It's the wizard named Antonin, the one who had been keeping the vault in Gringotts."

"What did you find out about him?" Hermione asked. Her voice was soft, yet filled with a desperate urgency.

Harry and Josef exchanged glances again and Ginny began to fear that Harry was regretting his decision. She, however, was not.

"We found him," she announced. "He is Albert, the strange wizard from the _Leaky Cauldron_."

"Is he here?" Hermione asked quickly. "Is he connected to that Seer that Harry saw at St. Mungo's?"

"I— I don't know," Ginny admitted. "We think so, but—"

"I need to talk to him," Hermione interrupted.

"We don't know where he is," Ginny said heavily. "We— _I_ lost him. That's why we called you here. We were hoping you could help us find him again."

"You found him? How long ago?" Ron blurted out. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you. Maybe if you'd have—" Ron's voice stopped abruptly as he looked at Josef and Harry. "Wait. How long has it been?"

"A little over a week," Harry answered.

"But— You found him and waited a week to—" stammered Ron. "Why?"

"Because of me," Hermione said, stepping forward. "They didn't want me to find out. That's it, isn't it?" Harry dropped his head and even Ginny couldn't stand to look Hermione in the eyes. She had remained silent for her own selfish reasons at first, but she had entered into the same silent agreement as Harry and Josef.

"You don't trust me," Hermione said quietly. To Ginny's surprise, there was no accusation in her voice. Instead, she sounded as if she was almost proud of them. It did little to soften the guilt Ginny felt.

"What changed?" Hermione continued. "Why are you telling me now?"

"We can't find him," Harry began. "We never had much to work with, but we've run out of places to look. We've missed something, but we'll never find it by ourselves. We need help."

"And what makes you think that I'll be able to succeed where you failed?" she asked as she stepped forward. Ron reached out to stop her, but she twisted away. "What makes you think I have the answers? Is it this?"

Hermione quickly pulled back her hood and turned to reveal the left side of her face. The black veins had continued to creep up her neck and face. Nearly half her face was now pale and sickly. Her lips had turned a disturbing purple color and the corner of one eye was turning dark grey.

"We need _you,_" insisted Harry, "—both of you. There isn't much time. Valencia can't help us. I won't put Lupin and Tonks in any more danger. You're our best chance of finding Antonin, and he's our best chance of stopping the cloaked wizard."

With a faint nod, Hermione walked to the table and sat down. "Alright then," she said wearily. "What do you know and how can I help?"

Harry and Ginny took turns filling in as much of the story as they could in a short period of time. Occasionally Hermione or Ron would stop them to ask a question. As she had before with Harry, Ginny glazed over the details of Antonin's escape and the reasons why she couldn't follow him or let anyone else know in time to attempt a proper pursuit. It was more conspicuous this time and Harry looked up at her questioningly when she insisted that there was nothing else of interest in her story.

"His father's library?" Hermione said, distracting Harry and leaving Ginny feeling happier because of it. "I thought you said his father was killed when he was young?"

Ginny began a brief version of the story Josef had told her long ago, leaving out the more troubling parts of his childhood and focusing on the old man who had pretended to be Antonin's father.

"That's got to be Harry's Seer," Hermione commented. "Maybe you're supposed to be looking for _his_ library."

"We know even less about him," Harry replied flatly.

"Well, you could just start looking through the biggest libraries in Russia," she suggested.

"We already have."

Her face dropped a little. "Well, then you could start on the smaller—"

"Those too," droned Harry. "And all the libraries in the Ukraine and Belarus and anything near the Baltic Sea. We even went to one in Vladivostok. We couldn't find anything, no one who looked like Antonin or the Seer and nothing connected to the number seven hundred forty-two."

Hermione slumped down a little further. She began throwing out a number of different ideas which ranged in helpfulness from the idea of trying to get Ferdinand Harrington to assign some clerks at the Ministry to help them look to trying to organize a large meeting of librarians to try and identify anyone who might be able to help. Even she admitted that none of them were really worth trying.

"Hold on," she said, interrupting Harry as he tried to explain how they found the old castle Josef had stayed in. "You said his name was Antonin Alekseyev?"

"Er... yes," Ginny answered. "Did you remember something about him?"

"Not remember," Hermione said, "but notice. Everyone seems to think that he was trying to leave a hint about where he was going. What if—" she began hesitantly, "—what if it was never about Russia or the Seer? What if it was both more subtle?"

"Well, if it was any more subtle, we'd have given up already and we'd have no use for you," grumbled Josef.

Hermione ignored him. "What if it was right in front of you the whole time. What if Alekseyev isn't really his name, but a patronym?"

"A what?" Ron asked, suddenly lost.

"It's a... nickname of sorts," she tried to explain. "It means: son of Aleksey or Alexander. He said he was going to his father's library. So, instead of searching every library in Russia, you should have been searching for Alexander's library."

"I don't see how that helps us," Harry replied.

"Neither do I," Josef added from the corner. "That's just another dead end. There's nothing left of it."

Something in his voice caught Ginny's attention. He seemed to know what Hermione was talking about. "What do you mean, _nothing's left of it?_" she asked.

"We'll probably never find a place called _Alexander's Library,_" Josef replied, "but there are probably loads of libraries in places called _Alexander's City_. Of course, Hermione's only thinking about one of them."

"You mean Alexandria?" Ginny replied. "You think he went to the Library of Alexandria? But I thought it was—"

"Destroyed, yes," Josef finished for her. "You're right and Hermione knows it."

"Carthage was destroyed, too," argued Hermione. "So was Troy, and Santorini, and Ugarit. Even Rome was nearly destroyed several times. The Library at Alexandria is as old as any of the other sites the Veils were found at."

"And like them, there's nothing there anymore," Josef repeated again. "All they have are ruins."

"We had less than that at Carthage."

Josef rubbed his eyes and sighed. "So, you want us to go to Alexandria and stumble about in what's left of the ruins of an old library, hoping that we might find something to give us the faintest clue of what we're supposed to be looking for?"

"Can you think of a better plan?" she asked.

"No," Josef admitted, finally stepping out of the corner. "I can't. I guess we should leave as soon as possible."

* * *

Harry stepped out of the small inn they'd arrived in and looked around at the sandy, crowded street in the wizarding section of the city. Local wizards were moving about on their daily business, casting odd glances at him and his friends as they went. Harry tugged at the light beige cloak Josef had suggested, but felt the disguise was nearly meaningless. None of the people walking past him seemed to care so much about him. It was Ginny, wearing the same black cloak she had for the last month, who seemed to be getting the most attention.

"Why couldn't she just wear a normal cloak?" Harry whispered.

"Because she's the one in the greatest danger," Josef replied as he stepped past Harry and motioned for the others to follow him.

"And you couldn't change the color?"

"No, Harry," Josef whispered back. "That's the whole point of a protective cloak. It prevents charms from working. Besides, it's not the color of her cloak that's making people stare. It's the color of her hair." As if she heard this, Ginny began trying to casually push her hair back under the hood of her cloak. It helped a little, but there really wasn't much she could do.

Once they were walking down the street, they became much less interesting and Harry began to feel a little more comfortable. He wasn't at all familiar with the city, but Josef seemed to be, so he relaxed and let Josef lead them. As they walked, the streets became narrower and more crowded. Josef's eyes were constantly scanning the shops and other buildings on either side of them, stopping occasionally to look down the other streets and small alleys they crossed.

"How much farther is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Josef replied flatly. "Couldn't be too much farther, I suppose. The wizards are gathered in the oldest part of the city and that should be where the Library was. I suspect we'll be able to spot it once we get close."

"Wait. You don't know? I thought you said you knew where the Library was."

Josef stopped momentarily to look back at Harry. "No. I don't remember saying that."

"You said there wasn't anything left of it," Ron chimed in.

"Yes, I did," Josef agreed.

"But how could you know that if you've never been there?" Ron asked.

Josef just stared back at all of them. "You don't need to go someplace to know that there's nothing left of it. In fact, the ability to go there would prove that there must be something left. I can't have gone to the Library because there is nothing left of it to go to."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Then why are we here?"

"Because Ginny and Hermione thought it was our best chance at finding Antonin?" suggested Josef.

Harry glared back at him. "You could have been more clear about this before you wasted our time. The next time you want to make a point, I'd appreciate it if you did it without making us travel to a different continent in search of a Library which doesn't even exist anymore."

"Doesn't exist?" a young man laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Harry froze and began pulling his wand immediately. Josef spun around quickly to stop him. The young man who had spoken to them returned a playful smile.

"You are visitors, aren't you?" he asked in a cheerful voice.

Harry looked at Josef and the others. "Yes," he answered slowly. It seemed foolish to try and deny this fact. Harry slipped his wand back into his pocket, but didn't let go of it. The young man had dark eyes and a messy patch of dark hair highlighted with the dust which seemed to coat the walls of every building. He looked to be about Harry's age, though the clothes he wore looked like they had seen as many years as he had.

"I am sorry to interrupt," the man apologized. "Please forgive me, but I might be able to help you. You may call me Sokkwi. I live here in the city. I could not help but hear you say that you were looking for a library."

"Not just any library—" Harry began.

"Of course not," replied Sokkwi. "We have no libraries here. Not anymore. Once there was a great library here. The greatest library of its time and perhaps of all time."

"The Library of Alexandria," Harry said, getting an enthusiastic nod from their new friend. "Were you trying to say that it wasn't destroyed?"

"Oh, it was destroyed, I assure you," Sokkwi replied. "However, that does not mean that it does not exist. One very small section still remains. I suppose it was left as a monument to what it once was. It is mostly forgotten now. Everyone, like your friend here," he said, nodding toward Josef, "say that there is nothing left, but that is only because they don't know where to find it."

"But you do?" Ginny asked.

"Of course," the young man replied.

She smiled and stepped a little closer. "Could you take us there?"

Sokkwi's face fell a little. "I know the place well," he said. "However, I am afraid that I have no time at the moment. My brothers are very ill, you see. My mother has sent me to gather potion ingredients from the desert. I'm afraid it will take all day."

"Well, if you could just point us in the right direction," Harry began.

"Oh, I'm afraid that wouldn't do you much good," Sokkwi said. "The streets here are very confusing and the ruins are quite hidden. I couldn't forgive myself if you wandered into the wrong part of the city and got hurt."

"Yes, we wouldn't want you to worry about us," Josef said flatly. "You said that it will take you all day to gather the potion ingredients."

"Yes, I'm afraid this is true," Sokkwi replied.

"Because you have to gather them by hand from the desert. Are there no shops which sell the ingredients?"

Sokkwi frowned. "Certainly, yes, but the ingredients are expensive and my family is not wealthy. This is the only way."

"I see," Josef said with a nod. "What if we were to give you the gold you need to buy the ingredients from a shop. You could take us to the Library and still have more than enough time to buy the ingredients you need."

"Truly?" Sokkwi cried excitedly. "You would do that for me?"

Harry pulled a small pouch from his pocket. "How much will the ingredients cost?"

"I— I guess, er—" Sokkwi stammered. "I think f— five gold deben should be enough."

Harry opened the pouch and stared down at the pile of Galleons and Sickles. "I don't have any idea how much that is," he said aloud. "I don't have any, er— deben."

"Give him ten Galleons," Josef said in an even tone.

As Harry passed the stack of gold coins to Sokkwi, the young man's face lit up. A moment later, it dimmed. "I— I suppose this should be enough. I don't really know for certain, though. I usually pick the freshest herbs and grind the beetles by hand. The shopkeepers here, they rarely allow people like me to have their best stocks. They charge extra for them."

Josef rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Harry reached into his pouch and pulled out another five Galleons and handed them over as well. Fifteen Galleons was a huge price to pay, but still had more than that left over and he was willing to pay ten times that if it meant they would find what they were looking for.

"Oh, thank you," Sokkwi replied, clutching at Harry's hand and shaking it repeatedly. "You are wonderful people. My mother will be so pleased. We'll be able to make that potion and I'm sure my sisters will be healed and playing happily by this time tomorrow."

"We're just happy we could help," Harry said. "Now about the Library—"

"Follow me!" Sokkwi called out as he pocketed the coins and led them down the street with a giddy look on his face.

After walking only a few blocks, they turned down a dark alley and walked out into another dim street. There were fewer people walking about and most of the doors were closed and locked. The ground beneath them was paved with large sandstone tiles now and the buildings around them were cracked and crumbling, no doubt held up with centuries of charms. Sokkwi stopped abruptly outside a large domed building which stood between two fractured arches.

"This is it?" asked Josef.

"Yes," answered Sokkwi. "It isn't much, but it is all that is left. Few wizards come to see it anymore. They want to remember it as it once was, not as it exists now. Your friend was right, though," he said. "There isn't much to see, but I will be happy to read the plaque to you."

"There's no need for that," Josef said.

"Oh, it's no trouble, I assure you," Sokkwi said enthusiastically. "It's the least I can do."

"No," Josef replied in a slow, hard voice. "The least you can do is to walk away and forget that you ever saw or helped us."

"I see," Sokkwi replied with a slight bow. "If that is what you wish."

Josef bowed in return. "It is."

Sokkwi turned around and walked off calmly, saying nothing else to them and looking not at all disappointed that he could not repay Harry and his friends for their obviously extravagant generosity. For his part, Harry was happy to see him go as well. He had been an expensive guide for such a short trip, and his time spent with the Brotherhood had taught him that while friendship could be bought with gold, but loyalty could not. The less Sokkwi knew about their reasons for wanting to find the Library, the safer they —and he— would be.

The building Sokkwi had identified as the Library looked nothing like what Harry had expected. Nonetheless, the young man had seemed certain and there was no reason to believe that he was being dishonest. They approached the doorway and found a small sign next to it clearly identifying the building as the remnants of the Library of Alexandria. The door swung open easily and they quickly stepped through and closed the door behind them.

The interior of the building was composed of a single cavernous room with a large circular hole cut in the top. Sunlight poured in from the opening, bathing a crumbling heap of stones in the middle of the building with bright sunlight.

Approaching the ruins, they found a large golden plaque with text written in a few different languages. Hermione was able to recognize all of them, though she reluctantly admitted she didn't know any of them well enough to read much of what they said. This wasn't a problem because there wasn't really much that needed to be explained. The rubble before them was the remnant of the front gates of the library. Nothing more was left. Josef had been right all along.

Looking at the broken stone, Harry felt anger and frustration swirling inside him. It was another dead end. What was Antonin trying to tell them? Why had he helped them so many times only to leave them when they finally found him? What was the point of it all? Harry began to think that they weren't meant to find Antonin. If he wanted to help them, he would just have to find them and speak to them like he should have long ago.

"I've had enough," Harry announced. "We should go. There's nothing here."

"I'm not so sure," Ginny called out. "Harry. Come take a look at this."

Everyone quickly walked to where Ginny was standing, just inside the broken arch which had framed the ancient doorway. In front of them was the last section of the tiles which had once formed the floor of a great atrium. A large circle of golden tiles had been set into the stone tiles so that it passed through the center of three golden disks. On either side of the gigantic ring, a pair of lions were carved into the stone so that they were standing up and facing each other, holding the ring between them.

"This is where we were supposed to go," Ginny said. "We're on the right track."

With renewed hope, Harry and the others searched every inch of the building and the ruins, but found absolutely nothing else to help them. Hermione spent most of her time in front of the plaque trying to decipher enough of it to know if there was something there for them to find. A half hour later, they were ready to give up again. They had found nothing more. Frustrated and confused, Harry walked out of the building, feeling more manipulated than ever.

"You don't look happy," a familiar voice said to them. Harry turned to find Sokkwi standing nearby and watching them with curiosity. "Is something wrong? Isn't that what you were looking for?"

Harry wasn't in a particularly patient mood. "We were hoping for a little more than an old doorway," he said. "I think fifteen Galleons was more than enough for that, so I would have hoped you would have at least had the courtesy to do what we asked and leave us."

"Ah, I'm very sorry," apologized Sokkwi. "I suspected that might be the case, so I decided to wait nearby and see that you didn't get lost when you tried to leave."

"And how much will that cost?" asked Harry.

"Oh, nothing at all," he replied. "I am happy to help my friends. But perhaps there is something more I could do for you. You said you were hoping for more than what you saw. If you would like to see more, I can show it to you."

"More of the library?" Josef asked.

Sokkwi nodded. "Yes, I think so. It is only a pair of small rooms, but one of them still has a few books in it and there are a few sculptures. The people tell stories of young witches and wizards disappearing there, but I think it's only to frighten them off. It was not part of the main library. It was underground. That is why it wasn't destroyed with the rest of the library, but there is no way to know when the ceilings might collapse."

"It's underground?" Harry asked, feeling his heart jump a little. He immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. "Can you take us there?"

Sokkwi seemed confused by the urgency of his request but quickly led them away from the domed building to an old grate in a dim alley. Pulling a cracked wand from his pocket he levitated the grate and leaned it against the nearby wall. Beneath the grate was a deep shaft with a rickety wooden ladder tied to the wall with fraying rope.

"Follow me," Sokkwi said as he climbed down. "It's really much more sturdy than it looks." Sharing doubtful looks with Josef and Ginny, Harry began climbing down the shaft. Ron and Hermione came down after him.

The shaft was about thirty feet deep and Harry was surprised to find the floor surprisingly clear and dry. He expected to be entering a sewer of some sort, but the feeling he actually got was of something more like a tomb. As Sokkwi lit his wand and began leading them down a cramped corridor, Josef helped Ginny step off the ladder and took up his normal place at the back of the group.

After only a short distance, Harry felt the walls of the corridor fall away and realized that he'd stepped into a small room. Broken tables and fallen chairs were scattered about the floor and empty shelves lined the walls. The remains of several books and scrolls were left on them, sometimes ripped and sometimes charred. An old fireplace was set into one of the walls, but broken chunks of stone had filled it in long ago. The only other exit was an arched doorway on the far wall.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked as she took a closer look at one of the destroyed books.

"Somewhere under the main doorway," answered Sokkwi. "I don't think this place was actually part of the library. This is where the librarians would live, but it is a little more impressive than a pile of stone, I think."

Harry lit his wand and walked over to the fireplace. The closer he got, the less interested he became. Though it had a high mantle, the arch which had framed the opening had obviously been too small to use with the Floo Network, if anything like that even existed back then. Instead, he found the stones covered with black soot and the cracked remains of a cauldron. The fireplace had been nothing more than a place to cook food.

"What's in the other room?" asked Josef, pointing the light from his wand at the other doorway.

"Nothing at all," Sokkwi answered. "I think it used to lead off to other rooms like this, but they've all collapsed by now. If you go in there, please be careful. The floor is not safe."

Ignoring the warning, Josef walked through the doorway with Ron and Hermione close behind him. A voice echoed in the other room and a bright light began to shine through the doorway. Harry and Ginny began walking toward the light, but Sokkwi refused to enter the room.

"I have seen it," he said stiffly. "I will stay here."

Harry stepped into the doorway with Ginny just behind him. Josef was standing nearby, pointing his wand toward a glowing ball in the center of the room which filled it with a soft light. The room was not large, but it was not small either. It was roughly circular, with a high, domed ceiling. A large hole could be seen in the floor near the center, and a number of large cracks spread out from its edges.

"What are you doing, Ron? Come back!" Hermione cried as Ron began walking around the edge of the room, investigating a number of collapsed doorways which opened into the chamber.

"Stay close to the wall," Josef called out. "The floor should be sturdier there." Hermione glared at him for encouraging Ron. He didn't seem to care at all. He looked up at the ceiling, then over at Harry. "The ceiling looks almost as high as that shaft was deep. If we're somewhere under the doorway, what do you suppose the chances are that this chamber is directly below the atrium?" Harry didn't need to answer.

"Harry!" Ron called out, making Hermione jump. "Harry, I think you'll want to see this."

Ron had walked nearly all the way around the chamber and stopped at the doorway a quarter way around the room to their left. With Ginny, Hermione, and Josef following him, Harry walked around the perimeter of the room until he was standing at Ron's side. Ron held his wand up, shining bright light at the doorway in front of him. It was filled with rubble, but it was clear to see that it had once been a large arch. Only half of it remained now, and it had tipped slightly, as if mourning for its lost half.

"_The other half—_" Harry whispered in shock. Ron had recognized it, too, and now Hermione and Josef did as well.

"What did you find?" Sokkwi asked, clutching at the doorway to the other room and trying to peer into the chamber.

Josef spun around and pulled out his wand. "Now is the time for you to leave, Sokkwi," he commanded. "Leave now and forget that you came down here. Tell no one."

"But— I thought we were friends. I just wanted to—"

"_Leave now,_" Josef snapped. "Make no mistake. We are not your friends. You don't need to risk your life for us. Run and enjoy the gold you earned."

Sensing that he had been pulled into a situation beyond his abilities, Sokkwi disappeared immediately, leaving only a faint echo of sandals running across dusty stone.

"So, what does this mean?" Hermione asked, staring at the doorway. "The ring and the two lions are above us. This is the other half of the arch we found in Gringotts. This is obviously what we were meant to find, so what do we do now?"

"Well, we're not getting through this," Ron said, waving a hand at the blocks of stone filling the corridor just inside the arch. "Maybe we're supposed to go down the hole?"

Looking at the crumbling floor around the hole, Harry decided that would be the very last thing he tried. There had to be something more to find there. He had everyone spread out and search the walls for something that might have some meaning. It was a futile task, as the walls were almost completely smooth and devoid of carving or symbols of any type. Having given up early, Ginny had returned to the half-arch to attempt to move the stone blocking the passage. After a dozen failed spells, she scowled at the rubble and kicked it hard, making her swear in pain.

"What kind of stone is this?" she said. "Nothing works on it. Nothing at all." She stepped forward to take a closer look, bracing herself against one of the large blocks. "Hold on," she said. "Something's odd here. Harry, could you cast some light this way? The rock isn't—"

Suddenly, she was gone. Harry let out a gasp of fear and began running toward the spot she'd been just a second earlier, when all of the light in the room disappeared. Hermione called out to Ron, who had just sworn quite loudly. Harry stumbled forward, hitting the wall.

"Sorry!" Josef shouted. "_Lumos!_" A bright beam of light sliced through the darkness, illuminating part of the room. Harry and Hermione quickly lit their wands while Ron climbed back to his feet and did the same.

They all rushed over to the doorway stared in disbelief. She had simply disappeared. There was no sign of where she'd gone or what happened to her. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. Had it been a trap? Was Antonin working with the cloaked wizard? Had they done this just to capture Ginny?

"Ginny!" he shouted, striking the stone hard enough to make his arm hurt. As he winced in pain and looked down at his hand, he realized that something about the stone didn't look right. Despite having the light of three wands pointed directly at it, the rough faces remained dull. Just as he leaned closer, Ginny's face burst from the pile of stone.

"Harry!" she cried. "Harry, I think we've found it."

His heart still beating faster than he could ever remember, Harry simply stared back at her, unable to understand what had happened. One of her arms reached out of the stone and grabbed onto his wrist. As she pulled him through the doorway, he felt the stone pushing against him. Then, after a few seconds, it gave way and he burst through, tumbling into Ginny's arms.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was standing in a long arched corridor. A single lamp was hanging from the ceiling and ahead of him, bathing the corridor in enough light to let him see the start of a wide staircase descending at the very end of it. Hermione was the next to make it through the deceptive wall of rock and she took a moment to pass back through and show Ron and Josef how to do it. Once they had all made it through, they walked to the end of the corridor and began walking down the staircase.

There were no lamps on the staircase, but it took only a few seconds for Harry to realize that the stairs were spiraling down a large central shaft which had started at the chamber above them. It was just like the shafts he'd seen at Knossos and Paris. Was there another Veil at the bottom? Hadn't the cloaked wizard found them all? Could he have missed one?

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found a single door, not unlike the sort of door they found in Paris. Feeling quite apprehensive, Harry approached the door and tried the handle. To his surprise, it turned easily and he pushed the door open, revealing a long corridor lit by a number of bright lamps and flanked by shelves of old books. Following the aisle, they came to a large open space, with twenty or more aisles stretching off in all directions. At the very center, a mosaic had been set into the floor. Hundreds of small golden tiles had been arranged into the shape of a large golden circle crossed by three short lines. At the very center of the circle was a single large tile made from a black crystal.

"This has to be the right place," Ginny said. "So, what do we do now?"

Harry felt anxious and frustrated at the same time. He felt as if he was stumbling along the right path, but he never seemed to know just which direction it was going in. Why did it have to be so difficult?

"I would have to assume that we're here to look for books," suggested Josef. "At least, I imagine it would be nearly impossible to find anything else."

"So... what sort of books are we looking for?" asked Ron as he surveyed the aisles. "I guess it doesn't really matter," he said quickly. "They don't really seem to say what the subjects are. All we've got to work with are a bunch of numbers." He pointed to one of the nearest rows of shelves. A golden plaque on one side contained several rows of symbols. Near the top, Harry found a few that he could read:

MCDXXV - MDCCCLX

Suddenly he understood what they were looking for. "We already know what to look for," he said. "The goblins at Gringotts found it for us. That aisle must contain sections one thousand four hundred twenty-five through one thousand eight hundred forty." While Ron gave him a confused look, Harry spun around, looking at each row of shelves. "There," he said, pointing to a row on the other side labeled:

CDXXV - CMXXXV

"That's where we'll find section seven hundred forty-two."

They almost ran down the aisle, looking for the small gold signs which let them know just which section they were currently in. The aisle turned and twisted until they no longer knew just where they were. Then, finally, they found the sign they had been looking for:

DCCXLII

Upon actually looking at the section, Harry's hopes began to dim again. The shelves in this section, unlike every other section they had passed, were completely empty. The weariness in Josef's eyes said more than any words could. They had reached yet another dead end.

"No," Ginny said firmly. "No, I don't believe this, not after everything that led us here: Albert's comment about his fathers library, the broken arch, the rings and the black crystal in the mosaic. No, we're in the right place," she said defiantly. "He wanted us to come here. Perhaps this is just some sort of... test to keep anyone else from finding what we're looking for. There must be something else around here to tell us where to look next. What about the sections around this one? Maybe there's something we're supposed to find."

Everyone headed to a different section and began searching through the books they found. After looking through a few books, Harry began to see a pattern. "These are all about different types of boats," he announced. "I don't know what that would mean. I haven't seen any water around here at all."

"I've got gardening lessons, I think," Josef said. "Mostly trees, it seems."

Ginny seemed confused by her section and eventually concluded that it was actually one enormous book about the absolutely correct method of making cauldrons. It appeared to be separated into over four hundred volumes. Ron gave up on his section almost immediately after finding a recipe for the stewed troll. The illustration on the facing page was still surprisingly vibrant despite its age.

"I'm afraid, I can't really tell what these are," Hermione said dejectedly. "There aren't any drawings to help and it would take me some time to try and translate any of it. If Bill were here, we might have more luck, but I never really learned all that much—" She froze and the book dropped from her hand, striking the ground with a sound that echoed through the enormous hall.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"That number," she said, her eyes opened wide and staring at him. "Do you have that bit of parchment with the number on it?"

Harry didn't understand. "Yes, but I don't know what—"

"Let me see it," she demanded. It took Harry some time to fish it out of his pocket. It was crumpled and slightly torn, but he couldn't see how that would really matter. Hermione snatched it away from him and flattened it against the shelves next to one of the golden section markers.

"Is there—" began Harry, but he was silenced immediately with a gesture from Hermione.

"We're in the wrong place," she announced. "This is a number, but it's not seven hundred forty-two. We're in Egypt and we're looking for historical information. Anything like that would have been written in hieratic."

"Of course," Ron said. "And what's that?"

"It's an ancient writing style developed by the Egyptians. If you're really unlucky, it can look like a bunch of sloppy numbers or pictures."

"So, it's not a not a number at all?" Harry said.

"No, it is a number, it's just not the one we're at," Hermione said triumphantly. She handed the parchment back to Harry. "In hieratic, that number is two thousand sixteen."

Harry jammed the parchment into his pocket and began running back to the center. Ginny and Hermione took a moment to catch their breath while Harry, Ron and Josef searched the columns for the correct aisle. Finding the right one, they ran off again. The aisle curved as they approached Section MMXVI and Harry skidded to a sudden stop as he found an old man crouched near the floor while trying to wedge a large book into an open space on one of the lower shelves.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter," he said without looking up. "I must say I am pleased to see you here, though when I told you we would meet again, this is not what I had envisioned."

"W-What do you mean?" Harry asked, put somewhat off balance by the man's statement.

The man finished pushing the book onto the shelf and stood up. It took Harry only seconds to recognize him as the same old man who had spoken with him in Evelyn's room at St. Mungo's. "I mean," he said, "that if I had known you were coming, I would not be here. It seems you are more clever than we expected. You only arrived in the city an hour ago. That is quite impressive."

"Harry," Hermione began in a quiet voice, "is this... the Seer?"

"Oh, I am no Seer," the old man replied.

"You're a Healer," Hermione said, stepping forward and pulling back her hood. "You healed Evelyn Sibley at St. Mungo's in London. You saved her from... from a horrible fate."

The old man had winced at the sight of Hermione's face and now looked at her with pity and sorrow. "No one could have saved Miss Sibley from her fate. That much was certain from the very start. She could not escape her suffering because she carried it inside her. I could not heal that. All I did was free her from the prison she had been placed in."

"Then do the same for me," Hermione replied. "Whatever you do, it can't make things any worse. You can't imagine the horrible things I see when I close my eyes."

The old man stepped closer and reached out to gently touch her pale, streaked skin which was stretched over her jaw. "No, I cannot, and for that I'm grateful," he said with a frown. "Sadly, there is nothing I can do for you, Miss Granger."

"No," she said defiantly, her purple lips trembling. "You healed Evelyn. Why can't you heal me? Why can't you _try_?"

The old man just shook his head. "Because I wouldn't know how to even try," he said. "This is not a disease which can be cured with potions or rare stones, as I'm sure you're already well aware. I may know more about it than any other wizard alive today, but no one has been able to cure this. Even I cannot take full credit for Miss Sibley's recovery."

"But you told Harry—" Ron began.

"I was able to heal Miss Sibley, but not because I was able to cure the cause of her ailment," he explained. "At that time, Harry was not prepared to understand the adversary he was facing. I don't think any of you are even now, but I knew. I know what it wants," he said, glancing at Ginny. "And I know what it hates. I did not cure her. Only the one who cursed her can heal her. I simply reminded him that Miss Sibley, if given the choice, would always be loyal to Harry. She was an untrustworthy vessel for his power and she would only use her power to hurt Ginny, as she had in Slytherin's chamber."

"So... there's nothing that can be done?" Hermione asked as a single tear traveled down her pale cheek.

"Not by me," the old man said. "But not all news is bad news. For good or ill, you will not suffer for much longer. There is not much time left. In that, you may find some hope. There is not much time left for him, either, and the time may come when he decided that he can no longer spare the power he has poured into you. If you are to be healed, he is the one who will do it."

"Why me?" asked Hermione, looking close to despair. "What did I do? Why did Evelyn get to go free, but not me? Why is this happening to me, but not Josef?"

The old man frowned slightly. "Yes, Josef is a curious case. I cannot fully explain it, but it should be enough to say that it appears he chose to let Josef go in the same way that he chose to do this to you. He is a creature of hatred, fueled by rage, but he is not mindless. You were chosen for a reason. No doubt he wanted someone close to Harry and Ginny, but not too close. In you, he saw the tool to drive a wedge between Harry and Ginny, and unless I am mistaken, he was successful."

Harry instinctively looked over at Ginny and found her staring back. In that brief instant he could see the recognition of truth in her eyes. Somehow, hearing a complete stranger tell them what they already knew made it seem all the more obvious. They had done just what the cloaked wizard had wanted them to.

"Yes, you do not know just how close we have come to failing," the old man said. "I must admit that I began to fear that it would all fall apart. I too began to despair, but in the end, I made the same mistake he did: I underestimated the strength of the bond between you. It has been strained, but not broken. That has bought us just enough time to do what has to be done."

"So, there's still time, then?" Harry asked. "We can still destroy him?"

The old man shook his head. "Do not be disillusioned. While we might still be able to stop him, he cannot be destroyed. He will not be destroyed. There is no wizard stronger than he is, and there never has been a wizard stronger than him. For as long as witches and wizards have walked this world, his power has eclipsed all of them."

"So it's true?" Ginny asked. "He was the first wizard?"

"Not the first wizard, no," the old man said, "but do not misunderstand this. It is not because he was not there when the first wizards were born, it is because he is not a wizard. Oh, perhaps by some definitions he is. He uses magic, certainly. However, as a way of describing him, it is frighteningly inaccurate. Calling him a wizard is about as correct as calling you a rather life-like statue."

"Then what is he?" she asked.

"He is what he is," the man replied cryptically. "He is absolutely unique. There are no words today to describe him because he was imprisoned before any modern languages were conceived."

"And yet," she replied, "you still say _he_."

"I do," the man agreed with a smile, "because it is one of the few things that can be said with certainty."

"How is that possible?" Harry asked. "He can possess whoever he wants. He can make himself look however he likes. Who is to say what he originally was?"

"The ones who first found him, of course," the man replied. He seemed to find some amusement in Harry's reaction.

"Who was—"

"The first wizards, of course," he answered quickly. "They passed the story down through the ages, though it has become little more than a legend now. You can still read it here, if you can learn their language. It is a very interesting story, I assure you, made even more interesting by the language they wrote it in."

"And just what would that be?" Josef asked.

"I'll show you," the man said. He pulled out a large stack of parchment bound between two slabs of dry and splintering wood. He opened it gently and held it so everyone could take a look at it.

As Harry stared down at the book he could barely believe his eyes. The writing wasn't made up of letters or even symbols, but a series of long, looping lines which seemed to blend together. He recognized it almost immediately as the same script he saw when reading the _History of Magic_ volume from Barcelona.

"Is it supposed to mean something?" asked Josef. "It seems to be a script of some sort, but I don't recognize it."

"Wait—" interrupted Harry, "—you can _see_ it?"

Josef returned a look that questioned Harry's mental state. "Of course I can see it. I haven't got a bloody clue what it is, though."

"Interesting," the man remarked. "I admit I was curious. It does not matter. You might not recognize it, but Harry does. Don't you, Harry?" The old man and the others all turned to look at Harry expectantly.

"It's... Parseltongue," he announced.

"Not quite," the old man corrected him, "but close enough that I imagine you could read it with a little practice. Luckily for you, others have put years of labor into deciphering this book and I know the content well enough that I haven't needed to read through it more than a few times." He slowly closed the book and gently slid it back onto the shelf.

"The book tells the story of a band of men and women who had wandered across entire continents, drawn to one particular place by a force they could not understand. They worked for years, digging a tunnel without knowing the reason for their labor. Then, one day, they broke into a small cavern and there, pacing in the darkness, they found a man draped in dark, worn cloth with piercing green eyes who spoke to them in a hissing language they couldn't understand."

"He had been trapped and they let him out," Harry muttered. "Couldn't they see what he was?"

"It was a different time, Harry," the old man answered. "You must understand that they did not know as much about the world as we do now, and they knew nothing at all about magic. I'm sure he was frightening, but he was also amazing, mysterious, and above all, powerful. To them, he was a god."

"He didn't kill them, then?" Ron asked.

"No, quite the opposite," the man replied. "It sounds as if he was pleased to be free of the cave. Some writings even imply that he was seen to be happy and cheerful. In exchange for his freedom, he first taught his rescuers to speak to him, then he began teaching them magic. They became the world's first true witches and wizards, though they didn't use wands and their magic shadowed that of their teacher. It was powerful and grand, but wild and unfocused."

While Harry found this interesting, history wouldn't help them figure out how to stop the cloaked wizard. "When they found him, he was trapped in the cave. Did they ever find out how he got there or why he hadn't left before?"

Harry caught a brief flicker in the old man's eyes as he turned toward him. "Yes, they did," he replied, "but the story isn't as clear as you might be hoping. The first of them were quite curious about this god and asked him many questions, most of which, quite understandably, related to his past. He told them that there had been others like him, but they hated him and feared how powerful he'd become. He said they betrayed him and banished him to his stony prison to hide their shame."

Harry saw a rare glimpse of hope. "The others," he began, "did he say who or what they were? Could we find them?"

"His followers asked the same thing," the old man replied. "Some, perhaps, wished to search for other gods to worship, most, however, seemed to want to find them and punish them for the crime they had committed. Entire families devoted generations to finding them, two of them in particular."

"Did they find anything? Did they say what they were looking for?" asked Harry. "If we could find them again, maybe they could help us put him back into—"

"Perhaps," the man interrupted again, "but I would not waste your time looking for them. A dozen generations later, the population of witches and wizards had exploded. They became heroes and leaders of civilizations. As their wisdom grew, they looked upon their god with new eyes. They began to see how he manipulated them, how those who questioned him fell victim to strange diseases. In the shadows, they began to whisper to each other, wondering if the other gods ever existed, if it had all been another tale given to them to convince them of his greatness.

"The greatest and most powerful among them began to exchange secret messages. It became clear to them that this wizard was far darker than they had ever realized. Between each other, they began to think that the wizard had imprisoned himself by mistake, the victim of his own greed and search for power. They saw the mistake their ancestors made in releasing him and began a great project. Using the wizard's own teachings against him, they began to search for a way to put him into a new prison. After a thousand years, they finally succeeded."

"The Veils —the Death Gates—" commented Harry, "—they made them, didn't they?"

"Yes, but not as a prison," the old man said, shaking his head. "They are monuments to the imperfection of magic. Those who were fighting the wizard did not want to repeat the mistakes of the past. They knew that imprisoning him in the rock would only hold him for so long. Instead, they built a cage by ripping a piece of the world from itself and condensing it into a small crystal."

"The Jewel of Darkness," said Ginny. "It's not a weapon; it's a prison."

"Precisely," the old man said, nodding briefly. "They planned to trap the wizard in the cage and then toss it into the void. But in making their prison, their magical power exceeded their abilities. They succeeded in creating the Jewel, but they shattered the barrier between this world and that of the dead, creating dozens of gateways between the two. They immediately set about finding them and surrounding them with protective charms and devices, dreading the day when the wizard might find out what they had done would come before they had finished.

"That day finally came in Eridu, a city built around one of the first gateways which had been found. His anger at what they had done was immense, but their numbers had grown and they overwhelmed him. Hundreds were killed, but in the end, one of the attackers pierced the wizard with the Jewel, trapping his spirit inside it.

"He remained trapped inside it for a hundred years. During that time, the wizards of the world scrambled about, finding any remaining gateways, sealing them and hiding them under mountains of stone and masonry. But slowly, their plan was falling apart. Just as the gateway was imperfect, so was the Jewel. Slowly, from within his cage, the wizard was killing everyone who held the Jewel. He twisted their minds, filling them with thoughts of the power and riches they could have if they would free him.

"Fifty years after the last gateway was closed, the wizards who created the Jewel knew they could not wait any longer. Only two of the original band of conspirators remained, and together, they returned to the cave where the wizard had been found. In that place, his power became too great. One of them succumbed to his power, and threw down the Jewel. The other, perceiving the danger, grappled with the wizard as he reformed and threw both himself and the wizard through the gateway."

Everyone stared at him in shocked silence. "But— what about the Jewel?"

"It was broken," the old man said. "The one who remained behind —the one who had broken it— tried to fix it and throw it into the void as well, hoping it might seal the gateway, but it did not. He hid the Jewel and kept trying to mend it, but no witch or wizard ever managed to do it before it was lost."

"Lost?" Harry replied. "How could they lose it? After all they went through to create it, they just _lost_ it?"

The old man frowned. "I did not say they misplaced it," he said sternly. "It was lost. A band of dark wizards found the place where it was being kept and killed everyone there. They searched for the Jewel, but found nothing."

"How did they know?" Ginny asked flatly. Harry looked up and could see the disgust in her eyes. She had already guessed the answer.

"As I said before, the Death Gates are not perfect. The wizard knew the Gates were closed, but they were not sealed completely. Some witches and wizards could sense him. Others, commonly those with ancient wizarding ancestry, were able to hear him. He spoke to them, promising them whatever they wished for helping him. Some ignored him, others returned and spoke with him repeatedly. They asked for power, and he gave them power —his power. Slowly, he began to leak back through the Gates.

"When one of his followers died, his power didn't return to the void. Instead it lingered, searching for a new host. More and more of his power collected, driven by one purpose: to punish those who had imprisoned him. Eventually, his power grew concentrated enough to begin to reconstruct memories. It found a suitable host in a young, ambitious wizard in the northwest of Europe named Salazar Slytherin."

"I always knew he was evil," commented Ron.

"I'm afraid the truth is not so clear," the old man corrected him. "It's unknown how much of Slytherin's actions were controlled by his own will and how many were inspired by the power he had gained. He was a powerful wizard in his own right, and in the end, his ambition was still too noble for him to fall completely to the darkness he inherited from behind the Gates. He eventually died, but the dark power was passed down his line, slowly dissipating, but always searching for the right wizard to infect. When I was young, I thought we might finally see the end of it, but I was wrong."

"You're talking about Voldemort, aren't you?" asked Harry, already seeing where this was headed.

"No, not Tom Riddle, but Merope Gaunt," the old man announced, surprising them.

"Voldemort's mum?" said Ron. "Why her? I thought they said she was almost a Squib."

"She was, but power and evil intentions had nothing to do with it. In her, the dark power found something familiar, something it could cultivate. I cannot say just what it was, but it is enough to say that it _wanted_ to help her. And help her it did. And when it was finished, it passed on to her son, taking all of her anger, frustration and pain with it, and leaving her empty and on the verge of death."

"You mean... it _made_ Tom Riddle?" Ginny whispered.

"I suppose you could think of it that way," the old man replied. "Tom was not powerless in the matter and he readily accepted the power given to him, but yes, I believe the wizard intended to create the dark wizard he had failed to find over the centuries of his imprisonment behind the Gates.

"At first, we thought that Riddle might have been just the sort of wizard we had been waiting for. He was the most talented wizard I had ever met. That was clear from a very young age. We hoped that he would become strong enough to put an end to the threat lurking behind the Gates, but it didn't take long before our hope began to fade. My mentor and I watched as darkness consumed Riddle.

"The final test came when he found the old chamber left by Slytherin. He used the monster to murder a girl and started his relentless search for immortality. Knowing the danger he posed, we quickly located every book we could find which had mentioned the Jewel or explained the real history behind the Death Gates. It wasn't enough to hide or obscure the truth anymore. It had to be removed. Riddle was growing too strong.

"And that is where you met Albert," Ginny said. "He had come to Barcelona looking for information about... er—"

"The Brotherhood," the old man finished. "He was searching for the man who had led his father to his death. That was the very same day when we realized that Valencia Desmoda was still alive. There were only two of us then, and I was not young. Antonin was, and he was also a strong wizard with a clever mind and quite determined. Asking him to join us may be my most important task. There was much to do, and as Riddle became Lord Voldemort, our hopes that our work might have been coming to an end all but disappeared. Then, an entirely unexpected and curious thing happened." He paused, and stared at the shelf of scrolls in front of him.

"What was it?" Ginny prodded.

His eyes flitted over toward Harry. "A prophecy," he said. "It was vague and meaningless, as most are, but we found many possible meanings in it. As I said, it was merely curious by itself. However, we did not expect Voldemort to take it seriously. We were wrong. Something drove him to act, and it drove him to pick Harry as the greatest threat. He attacked and failed, but he didn't die, and neither did Harry. In the span of just a few hours, our hopes had returned."

"But the prophecy wasn't about this," Harry said. "It was about Voldemort."

"And what was Voldemort, really?" the old man said in response. "Tom Riddle was a dark wizard, but Voldemort was something more. He was a perversion of magic, not quite a wizard and yet not yet fully free of his mortal form. Though Tom may not have realized what drove him, he was slowly rebuilding the power of the wizard who had been banished so long ago. He surrounded himself with the oldest wizarding families, giving them knowledge and encouraging their ambitions while the dark power within him fed off them. Voldemort _was_ the cloaked wizard, or at least the closest the world had seen in thousands of years."

"But Voldemort is dead," Harry said. "I destroyed him."

"Yes, you did," the man agreed, "but you did not destroy all of him."

Harry felt his blood run cold. He remembered reading the _History of Magic_ at Hogwarts. He hadn't needed to sign the book. It recognized him. Who did it think he was? Slytherin? Riddle? It didn't really matter. The fact that it was in Parseltongue and he had been able to read it was proof enough. No one said anything, but they all seemed to understand what the old man had meant.

"You see now, Harry?" he said. "You are our last and final hope. The wizard is free. He has been collecting all of his power, and the last significant piece lies within you. It has been calling to him and each day it grows a little stronger."

"I don't want it," Harry declared strongly. "I never wanted it. He can have it back."

"No!" the old man replied. "Without it, you cannot possibly face him. He would kill you and no one would be able to stop him from taking whatever he wanted. By now you should know what that is. It is difficult to believe that it was a simple coincidence that Tom Riddle's diary found its way into Ginny's hands."

"Why is he interested in her?" asked Harry. "He blames her for being imprisoned, but he has to know that isn't possible."

"It doesn't matter what the truth is, Harry," the man replied. "All that matters is what he _believes_ to be true. It's clear that he is so old that he has forgotten much of his own past. All he can remember is pain. He seeks her and the Jewel out of vengeance, but I think part of him is also searching for a part of himself that he lost. I suspect he thinks Ginny might be able to give him that."

"But why her?" pressed Harry. "Why did he pick her?"

"The same reason he picked you," the man replied flatly. "There are reasons, but they wouldn't make sense to you and they don't really matter. You might as well consider it to be fate. This is simply the way the world was meant to be."

"That's starting to sound like a prophecy," Harry growled. "We're just supposed to accept that was nothing we could do to prevent this?"

"Of course there was, Harry," he replied. "You simply didn't choose to do any of those things and we can be thankful for that. Who knows what the consequences of those choices might have been. Your choices are powerful, Harry. You can change the course of the world. No prophecy brought you here. Your choices did. They kept you alive and helped you find others who could help you do what needs to be done."

Harry took a moment to think about what the man had said. "You said before that our meeting was a mistake," he began. "How is that possible? How could you be watching all of us so closely and not know that Antonin was trying to lead us here?"

"Ah, I apologize," the man replied with a bow. "I was not clear. It is no mistake that you discovered this place, obviously. I always knew that your path would bring you here eventually. I simply did not want to be here when that happened." Harry had not expected that response and the old man must have noticed the surprised expression on his face. "It is nothing personal, I assure you," he said quickly. "I was simply being practical. I am in quite a bit of danger with you here."

"You're in—" Harry gasped. "How are you in danger? You're the one who's been hiding in the shadows, destroying books and killing anyone who gets close to figuring out who you are."

"Yes," the man nodded, "and now you know who I am. This is a delicate time, Harry. The fate of the world is balanced on an edge. If anything were to happen to me, we would all be doomed."

"Why is that?"

"I am sorry, Harry. The time is not yet right for that explanation. In time, I assure you, you will get your answer."

"And what are we supposed to do until then?" Harry asked, his frustration beginning to turn to anger. "Are we supposed to sit here and wait?"

"Wait? Of course not," the man replied. "Your early arrival here has not given you any more time to waste. You must go as quickly as you can."

"Go where?"

"To the Temple of Telahmet, of course," the old man answered. "If you want to stop this wizard you've been fighting, that is where you must do it."

"The Temple of Telahmet," Harry repeated. "Why does it have to be there? Is that were the last Veil is?"

"The last?" the man asked with a slight smile. "No, not the last. The _first_. The most powerful. The most important. These gateways —_Veils_ as you call them— are just echoes or shadows of the very first one. They were never more than mistakes, unintentional effects of the flawed attempt to create the very first one."

"And you say it's in this temple?"

"Yes," the man replied simply.

"Where is it?"

The old man smiled. "I wish I could tell you," he said. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small medallion carved with the shape of two lions facing each other and tossed it to Harry.

Harry glared at him. "You mean— You don't know where it is? You've been preparing for this for thousands of years and you still don't know where the temple is?"

"Of course I do," the man replied stiffly, as though Harry had insulted him. "I spent two years of my life finding it. Antonin managed to do it in just a year and Justinian Lynch took just over a month. I know it sounds hopeless, but I'm confident that you can find it in six days."

"_Six days?_" cried Ron. "Why do we only get six days to find it?"

"Because if you do not, the repercussions will be devastating. The wizarding world will be utterly destroyed."

Fury boiled in Harry's chest. He couldn't stand any more of these games. "You know where it is," he growled. "_Tell us how to find it, now._" The entire room seemed to reverberate with the power of his voice, and for a second the old man looked shaken and weak.

"You must— I—" he stammered, then seemed to stumble a little and recover himself. "You see, Harry," he said, "this is the danger I sought to avoid. I cannot help you. I cannot stay any longer. I trust all of you. I know that you will find the temple. The scrolls here can help." With that, he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small pouch. As he untied the cord keeping it closed, Harry realized what he was doing.

"_No!_" he shouted. "_Don't you dare open that! Tell us where the temple is!_"

It was too late. The old man tipped the pouch over and a small piece of jewelry in the shape of a scarab beetle tumbled out. A second after it touched his hand, the old man disappeared, leaving Harry and the others standing alone in the library.

"Bloody hell," Harry snapped. "I'm tired of these games. He knows where that temple is. Why couldn't he just tell us?"

"Because he didn't need to," Josef answered.

Harry glared at him. "Why not?"

"Because I already know where it is."

Harry didn't know if he felt more relieved or angry. "You... know where it is? And you've stayed quiet all this time?"

Josef frowned and turned to walk away. "I don't know its exact location. No one did. Grigore was looking for it. He knew he was close and he was convinced you would lead him to it. That's why he forced the Quidditch World Cup Committee to switch the location for its vote."

He stopped at the end of the shelves to look back at the others. "Come on, Harry. We can be at Giza within the hour."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Still going. Hopefully people are still out there. The end is in sight: three chapters and a short epilogue. I'm hoping to have it finished around Halloween.

As for this chapter, I hope this gives people some answers. Now, I'm sure people are still going to complain that they're just even more confused. I think this is a misuse of the word "confused". Things are complicated, I agree, but its coming together. Feel free to ask questions if you like. Feel free to offer theories, too. No matter what, I hope its enjoyable.


	20. The Temple of Telahmet

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 20**

**The Temple of Telahmet**

* * *

Just as Josef had promised, Harry and the others arrived in Giza within the hour. Harry wanted to start looking immediately, but Josef convinced him to be patient. He led them to the abandoned pub where Grigore had first openly talked about the Brotherhood with Ginny. Harry remembered the place just as well as Josef and Ginny, and it hadn't changed at all since that day, save for a few repairs. Josef said the Brotherhood had bought it some time ago and no one told the city they didn't exist anymore. Everyone in the area had simply grown accustomed to the empty pub and stopped asking questions about it. With any luck they would be left alone.

Ron volunteered to venture out and find some food while the others quickly explored the old building. Upstairs, they found a number of rooms with beds in them. Despite being dusty, they were ready for use and stocked with everything from extra robes and boots to fresh parchment and common potion ingredients. It appeared as if Grigore had expected to return there soon. Harry wished he knew what Grigore had found that brought him here. Perhaps there was something that might not have made sense at the time. After all they had seen and done, quite a few things in the past had become much clearer.

As they sat around the table eating a bizarrely enjoyable stew Ron had found, they decided they would have a better chance of finding the Temple if they split up. Though Josef had been the first to propose the idea, Harry could tell that he was uncomfortable with it. After a brief discussion they agreed that they would meet back at the pub three times each day. This would give them plenty of time to search, but if any of them found anything —or anything found them— the others would know about it quickly.

They tried to be hopeful, but after the difficulty they had finding Antonin, it was hard to be confident that they'd find the Temple in just six days. As if by some silent agreement, none of them mentioned this. When they left the pub an hour later to start searching, they tried to hide from each other the growing discouragement they were feeling.

* * *

Four days passed, but they still hadn't found anything helpful. The most they managed was a few mentions of missing bands of treasure hunters, but there was no note of where they had been looking or even what had brought them to Giza. It was just as likely that they had come to raid one of the many well known tomb areas and simply been killed by other thieves. Even if they had found the Temple, it was clear they never told anyone else about it. Still, with just two days left, Ginny was still searching for the lost raiders or anyone else who might have tried something similar.

In order to do this, she had to spend twenty minutes or more in the morning talking to Egyptian officials and guards just to walk to the archives where such reports were kept. She then repeated this again after returning to the pub every noon and evening. The guards were beginning to recognize her and the Egyptian officials who managed the archives were getting annoyed at her constant intrusion and refusal to explain just what she was looking for.

Ginny was getting fairly annoyed as well. After spending a day searching for information, she had told Harry and Josef that it was a waste of time, but they insisted that it was worthwhile. Had Harry been the only one to disagree, she might have resisted more. Instead, Hermione was the only one who had not begged her to continue looking. Ginny reluctantly agreed.

The scene repeated itself the next night, and the following noon. In the lengthening hours she spent in the archives, Ginny began to understand what they were doing. She tried confronting Harry about it, but he walked away before she could even start, saying that he was too busy.

Now they had reached the end of the fourth day. Realistically, they were nearly out of time. They still hadn't found anything and Ginny was having trouble convincing herself that there was anything she could do to change that. After an hour of staring at a dozen maps of the area, she realized that two of them were actually the same map. A third was upside-down. She tried being angry at herself, but she just didn't care enough anymore. Collapsing in a nearby corner, she buried her face in her hands. She didn't know if she wanted to scream or cry. It all seemed so pointless. Not only was it impossible to find the Temple, but they weren't even letting her try.

The sound of muffled footsteps woke her from her wallowing. Suddenly alert, she stood up and reached for her wand. It was late at night. All of the officials had gone home, and the guards had never actually come into the archives to check on her. As the footsteps became more clear, she searched the area around her for someplace a little less exposed. Finding nothing, she slipped off her shoes and waited behind a nearby bookshelf as the footsteps approached.

She caught a brief glimpse of a shadow nearing the far side of the bookshelf. Just as it rounded the corner, she ducked around the other side and ran down the aisle. Coming to the end, she found herself behind a tall man wearing a sandy-colored cloak. Raising her wand, she aimed it at the man's back.

"_Stup—_"

The man twisted about faster than Ginny thought possible. In a second, his hands were wrapped around hers and twisting her wand from her grasp as she let out a faint shriek of pain. The man stopped immediately upon hearing the sound, relaxed his grip and began laughing. Ginny looked up and found a pair of light blue eyes staring down at her.

"That was clever," Josef said, pointing down at her feet. "I didn't hear you coming at all. I would have tried to be a little more gentle if I had. I'm not used to being surprised." He slowly released Ginny's hands and smiled at her as he pulled back the hood of his cloak.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"It seems I'm done for the night," he answered. "The inspectors here aren't friendly to foreigners sneaking about their city late at night."

"What are you doing lurking about the city?" she asked as she retrieved her shoes. "Did you find something?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Well, I did find information, but that's not really good news. I've been looking for any witches or wizards I can remember who had been helping the Brotherhood. It's been surprisingly easy to find them, so far."

"That's a bit odd, isn't it?" Ginny replied, ignoring her frustrations at the moment.

"Oh, not at all," Josef said flatly. "The Egyptians keep meticulous records of their tombs. They carve the names right into them. I guess I never realized how much easier it would be to find a dead person. Of course, they don't talk much, so they aren't terribly useful."

This was hardly encouraging news, but it allowed her to ask the other question which had been lurking in the back of her mind. "Why were you looking for them? I thought you were supposed to be looking for images and carvings of snakes."

"I let Harry do that," Josef said as he sat down in front of the maps. "He's more likely to find something than I am. You know, being a Parselmouth and all. He was wasting his time looking for Antonin and the others. If he couldn't find anything by now, then there's nothing to find."

Ginny's teeth clenched tightly and she gripped her wand again. "And yet, here I am," she said, "spending another night looking for _nothing at all_ in mountains of records which weren't even worth looking at when they were put here."

Josef stared up at her and spoke in a soft voice. "Ginny, it's very important that you're here. Harry agrees with me."

"It's important that I'm here?" she replied sharply. "Well, there's nothing important here for me to find. I've been reading pointless, dull reports and staring at sloppy maps scrawled on parchment by some drunk at a pub for so many hours that I they're all starting to blur together." She leaned close to Josef and spoke forcefully: "_There's nothing here._"

Josef listened passively and replied: "Trust me, Ginny. You are helping us."

Ginny grabbed a particularly useless map and brandished it at Josef. "No, I'm not helping anyone. This map can't help us. It couldn't even help the poor bastard who made it. None of this can. I've wasted four days. I might as well have been helping Hermione mix up potions. It's bloody pointless, but at least she knows she's not helping."

Josef's eyes looked down at the floor and Ginny realized what she'd said. "It's the same for me, isn't it?" she asked quietly. "Is that what this is? You're keeping me busy? After all the help Hermione has given us, you still can't trust her, so you gave her the one job that wouldn't require you to trust her at all. You probably don't even plan on using the potions, do you?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "So, Hermione is making potions, and I'm down here, browsing through worthless records. Brilliant."

"It's not that I don't trust you Ginny, I do, but— We're very close. This is a very dangerous time and you—"

"—can't handle it?" Ginny growled. "Is that why you sent me down here? You think that I haven't been in danger before? Have you completely forgotten everything that happened in the past year? Did you forget that I nearly died trying to save you?"

"No!" Josef snapped. "No, Ginny, I haven't. Sometimes I wish I could. I wish I didn't know how important you are. I wish I didn't know that you might be our only chance to stop him. I wish I hadn't felt the hatred he feels for you. Ginny, I won't lie to you. Not anymore. I know you risked your life to save me, and I'm afraid that you're going to have to do it again before the end. There's nothing I can do to stop that, but I can do everything I can to keep you safe until then." He relaxed a little, letting his eyes drop to the floor again. "Harry feels the same way and Ron agreed with us."

"Why are you here?" she asked, her anger cooling a little. "Did you feel sorry for me? Did you feel guilty for shoving me into this cage?"

"No, it's just that—" he began, hesitantly. "We've got two days left and there's something I need to talk to you about. I'm afraid, Ginny. It's... not easy to admit that. After all I've done in my life, it almost seems silly that this would bother me so much, but I guess— I guess I've never really faced something like this."

"No one has," Ginny said, trying to sound comforting. The change in Josef's mood was abrupt and surprising. She'd never seen him actually frightened before. "We're all scared, but we'll fight it together. That's how we've always done it."

Josef shook his head. "I'm not talking about the cloaked wizard. I know how to deal with that. I've spent most of my life training for it. That's a problem with an easy solution. We know how to fix it. There's something else worrying me, and I don't know what to do about it." He looked into her eyes and said, "I'm worried about you and Harry."

It took Ginny a moment to compose herself. He had made it sound as if there was some dire problem she hadn't known about. "Honestly, Josef, it's not even worth—" she began, but Josef's expression remained serious. "Don't worry about Harry and me," she told him. "I know we've had a rough time, but that's all it is. In two days, this will all be over. If we fail, then none of it will really matter. If we succeed, then Harry and I will have all the time we need to work things out."

"I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that," he said. "This isn't just about being happy. It's Harry, Ginny. We need to talk about Harry."

"About Harry? I don't understand. What do we need to talk about? He's fine. He still has nightmares, but we all do. None of us have been getting much sleep, either. Whatever you're worried about, this hardly seems like the best time to address it."

"It may be the last chance we get," Josef replied. "I've put this off long enough. I should have done this earlier, but I kept telling myself that maybe it would get better. I thought he could control it, and for a while, he was, but lately... it's getting worse."

"What are you talking about? What was he controlling?" she asked. "What's getting worse?"

Josef let out a deep breath. "I know you've noticed," he said in a low voice. "Harry's been getting... stronger."

"Harry's always been talented," she said. "Everyone knows that. He was fighting Voldemort when he was eleven. He taught the rest of us how to cast a Patronus. I mean... you'd have to expect that he'd get better the older he got. Look at all the challenges he's faced. That's got to make a wizard stronger, right?"

"Too fast, Ginny," Josef said. "It's too fast. I've trained with dozens of wizards. In three months, Harry managed to accomplish more than any of the others did in a year. In another month, he would have been teaching me. It's not natural. Do you remember the guard from the Ministry? His mind never really recovered from his attempt to stop Harry. You were there when Dobby died and Harry nearly cracked the ground with his anger. He saved your life in the Chamber of Secrets twice, and he didn't use a wand either time. Did you ever try to understand why you survived the fall, while Evelyn, who fell with you, received horrible injuries which never fully healed?"

"That was different!" Ginny snapped. "It wasn't— He never wanted—"

"That is my point precisely," Josef said steadily. "He never wanted to hurt that guard. I don't believe he wanted to hurt Evelyn, either. These aren't the sort of things that Harry would ever do, yet we can't deny that he _has_ done them."

"Those all happened months ago," Ginny said, trying to remain calm. "There's no reason to think—"

"Isn't there?" asked Josef. "I want to believe that, Ginny, I honestly do. Perhaps I'm wrong. No one has spent more time around him than you have. Tell me that you haven't seen anything strange. Tell me that he hasn't done anything to suggest that he's not in full control of his power. If you say there's nothing, I'll believe you."

Ginny opened her mouth to assure him, but before she could speak, painful images drifted through her mind. She could see Hermione, dressed in nothing but a nightgown of thin red satin with Harry's lips pressed against hers and malevolent darkness spreading across her skin from the place where he was touching her.

Josef frowned at her reaction. "I was afraid of that."

"It's not his fault," Ginny said. "It's the cloaked wizard. He's the one doing this. He's making Harry do these things. Harry's not evil. He'll fight it. I know he will."

"He's already fighting it, Ginny. I've been watching him. He's strong, but not strong enough. It's been a part of him since he was a year old. I don't think it's possible for him to ever fully control it. I think it's part of him now, and soon, it may be the more powerful part."

"That's why we're looking for the Temple," she said in a trembling voice. "We're going to put an end to this once and for all. Then Harry can finally live a normal life."

"Ginny," Josef said softly. "I wish there was an easier way to say this. We aren't the first people to fight against the cloaked wizard. The Veils were created because the most powerful wizards of the age couldn't destroy him. Realistically, the best we can hope to do is to find a way to imprison him again."

"What are you saying?"

Josef gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm saying that we might not be able to cure Hermione... or Harry. We can't know what will happen if we manage to stop the cloaked wizard. Maybe it will get better. I think it's much more likely, that the moment the cloaked wizard feels threatened, he'll try to turn Harry against us."

"Harry won't let that happen. He's stronger than that. He fought Voldemort. He'll fight this," she said confidently, though she couldn't completely bury her growing doubt. "It won't matter at all if we don't find the Temple. And if we do, then we have to find the Jewel and do a dozen other things, or it's all for nothing." She looked at Josef and felt the true weight of the hopelessness in her words. "In the end, I guess it all comes out the same. No matter what happens to Harry, I never want to lose him again. I'll follow him, wherever he goes."

"Ginny, I—" he said, faltering slightly. "If Harry ever loses control again, I'm afraid he might never come back. If that happens, you're the only one who will be able to stop him. It's going to be up to you to— to see that he doesn't suffer like Mira and the others."

"No," Ginny said defiantly, not wanting to believe it was even possible. "That won't happen. Harry would never— If he did, then I would rather—"

"I don't know what's going to happen. Perhaps I'm completely wrong. I want to think that I am. If I'm not, then it's going to be up to you, Ginny," Josef repeated firmly, "but you don't have to be alone. I promised to protect you and stand by you to the end. Just remember that, will you?"

* * *

Another day passed and Harry and the others still hadn't found anything remotely helpful. Feeling the sixth day looming over them, they gave up all notions of sleep and food in a desperate attempt to find the elusive Temple. Instead of splitting up, they all banded together —even Hermione— to scour the city, searching every library, every cellar, every old building they could enter or sneak their way into.

They returned to the abandoned pub early in the morning of their final day, feeling more defeated than they had since the arrived at Giza. Just like every other day, they'd found nothing at all, but this time they had spent all night not finding it. There was simply nothing to find. After thousands of years of being hidden, all traces of the Temple had been removed or forgotten. They were all too exhausted and depressed by their failure to notice their visitor before he addressed them from the table in the center of the room.

"Good morning, Harry," he said in a firm tone, sounding neither friendly nor hostile.

Harry wasted no time in drawing his wand and pointing it directly at Antonin's chest. "Stay right where you are," he commanded. "If you move, I'll stun you faster than you can even remember where you put your wand." On either side of him, Josef and Ginny had drawn and aimed their wands as well.

"Relax, Harry," Antonin said gently. He slowly placed his hands on the table, splaying his fingers in an exaggerated show of obedience. He didn't look the way Harry remembered him. He wore no hat and had his hair tied back neatly. His customarily loud attire was replaced with simple robes of shadowy grey. His demeanor had changed, too. He seemed passive and detached. It didn't feel accurate to say that he wasn't concerned by the three wands pointed at him. He didn't even seem to notice them. With an empty, apathetic expression, he looked up at Harry and said in an even tone: "I am not your enemy."

"You're not much of a friend, either," Harry shot back, put off by his detached behavior.

"Perhaps not," he replied. "In the end, it will be up to you to make that judgment. I'll be honest with you. Obtaining your friendship was not one of my goals."

"And what exactly were your goals?" Harry asked, still keeping his wand on the older wizard. "If you were trying to destroy the cloaked wizard, you've done a pretty poor job of it, so far."

"I don't care much about him," Antonin said, looking down at his hands. "Of course, neither do you. It's not his existence that drives you to fight this hard. There are other dark wizards, Harry. You know that. Why aren't you fighting them? Why aren't you hunting them?"

"They didn't try to kill my friends!"

"Precisely," Antonin replied, raising a single finger to mark his point. "You aren't trying to rid the world of evil. You are just trying to preserve the world around you and protect the ones you love. You fought to keep things as you wanted them —as they were meant to be."

"I fought because he came after me," Harry replied angrily. "_He_ was the one who tried to change things. I didn't choose to be part of this."

"Neither did I," Antonin replied with unsettling serenity. "You and I are simply playing the parts given to us. We didn't choose them, and they did not choose us. They are simply our parts. This is how it was meant to be. We are not enemies. The world is rarely that clear. You are doing your job and I am doing mine. It is as simple as that. Understand that there is nothing personal about this. I have a job and it's nearly over. There is no room for friendships or emotion."

"You're lying," Ginny interrupted. "You could have done your job just as well without ever showing yourself to us. You didn't have to help me. You _chose_ to approach me, and once you did, it became more than just a job. You sit here, trying to act emotionless and cold, but it's just an act. It's just another mask," she said. "I know you. You do care. You do want to help us because as friends go, we're the closest thing you've got."

Antonin returned a stony gaze. "Don't fool yourself," he said coldly. "Just because you can see the mask now, doesn't mean that you understand what is behind it. Perhaps it's best that you don't. Though, I suppose you are not completely wrong. I would have liked to be your friend."

"Well, you could give it a try," Ginny replied. "You know where the Temple of Telahmet is, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he replied with a nod.

"Then help us," Ginny demanded. "Tell us where it is. Tell us how to find it."

"Oh?" said Antonin, pretending to be surprised. "So you still haven't found it, yet?"

"We haven't found anything," Harry said, "because there's nothing to find. It's not mentioned in any books. It's not shown on any maps. It isn't mentioned in any poems or songs. We even checked entire cellars of clay tablets. No one has even heard about it. The local historians look at us like we've gone mental and everyone who helped the Brotherhood is missing."

"Everyone who helped the Brotherhood?" Antonin replied. "Really?"

"Yes," Josef answered. "They've all been killed."

Antonin frowned and nodded. "Curious, don't you think?" he said. "Surely there has to be someone left. The Brotherhood worked with quite a few people."

"Well, if anyone is left, I don't know who they are or where to find them," Josef shot back. "Whatever Grigore found that brought him here, there's no chance that we're going to find it now. But you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Did I know that you wouldn't find the temple by following Grigore?" Antonin asked himself. "Yes, I already knew that. But I assure you that your collection of dead wizards has nothing to do with me. There would be no point, you see. None of them knew anything more than poor Grigore and we already knew that he would never find the Temple."

"Then how did he know it was here?" Harry replied. "He made it this far. So did you. You found the Temple, why couldn't he?"

Antonin sat back and smiled. "Ah, finally a good question," he said. "He couldn't find the Temple because at his very heart, Grigore Tarus believed dark magic to be the stronger form. Oh, he professed that neither good nor evil was stronger. He felt the allure of the darkness and fought it quite well, but he was only human. That is how he was trapped. The Gate had been whispering to him for some time. It blinded him and that's why he would never find what he sought."

"But he knew the Temple was here," Harry continued pressing.

Antonin nodded. "Yes, he did. The snakes brought him here, just like they brought young Justinian. Oh, Grigore was obsessed with snakes. He thought they held the key. Once he heard about the Chamber of Secrets, it wasn't hard to make the connection to Giza. He already knew the very first sightings of Basilisks were here. It was a clever deduction, but Grigore could not let go of it.

"He traveled to all the Gates he could find and found snakes at every one of them. For five years he searched, returning here whenever he could, searching for the one clue he was missing, the last snake which would lead him to the Temple. He could not see the answer in front of him all that time." He cast a quick glance at Josef. "That is why you have failed, isn't it? You are continuing Grigore's mistake. You are looking for snakes, for evil, for darkness. You have focused on the negative half, believing it to be the key to understanding this thing you fight. You have missed the other half."

"Lions," Harry said, remembering the carvings he'd seen around the Veil chambers. "It was always snakes and lions, just like... Slytherin and Gryffindor. Is that it? We're supposed to be looking for lions, or... something about Godric Gryffindor?"

"Ah, yes, I suppose that might would be a good idea," Antonin replied. "Or, it would have been a month ago. Godric Gryffindor knew what Slytherin was doing, of course. You might've found some notes about it if you looked. I don't know if anyone ever has, though. It doesn't matter anymore. There's no time for that particular branch of research. The lions, though, that was what the others were missing."

"Yes, that's wonderful," Ginny said in an acidic tone. "If only you could have told us that last week. That is the sort of favor we could have expected from someone who was supposed to be helping us."

"I came here to help you," Antonin said.

"It's a bit late, isn't it?" Harry fired back. "The old man in the library said it took Justinian a month to find it. We've got until the end of the day. It's too late. Either you help us, or it's all over. There's simply no time for any more of your games."

Antonin stared up at him and smiled. "There's still time, Harry. Don't give up just yet. I know how hard it is."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do," Antonin replied. "I was beginning to lose hope myself. It seemed impossible when I first thought of it. I knew you couldn't find the Temple in just six days. In all of history, Justinian took the least time, and it wasn't possible for you to duplicate that feat."

"Why not?" asked Harry, sensing there was something more.

"Because he never really managed to do it, himself," Antonin answered. Harry stared at him in shock. Had the old man lied to them? Seeing their reaction, Antonin smiled to himself. "I told you before that I have been trying to help you, and I will prove it to you now. You will find the Temple of Telahmet and you will find it the same way Justinian did."

"But how—"

Harry was interrupted by heavy knocking at the door behind him. Taking his wand off Antonin for the moment, he cautiously approached the door. Signaling for the others to stand clear of the entrance, he took shelter behind the wall next to the door and slowly opened it just a crack. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the blinding noontime sun, and when they did, he found Justinian Lynch watching him calmly.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as he threw open the door and pulled Justinian into the room.

"You're looking for the Temple of Telahmet, aren't you?" he said, glancing down at the spot where Harry was clutching his robes as if the action offended him.

Harry ignored him. "Are you going to tell us where it is?" he asked forcefully.

"No," answered Justinian. "I'm going to take you there."

Harry stared at him in shock. Being given exactly what he had been asking for for the past week was so surprising that he didn't realize that Antonin stood up until he heard the chair sliding across the floor. Harry spun around quickly to find the older wizard standing near a shelf and reaching for a small golden figurine in the shape of a lion which hadn't been there the day before.

"_Stop!_" Harry shouted, raising his wand again. "Don't touch that lion!"

Antonin stopped, surprising Harry yet again, but the look in his eyes was far from obedient. "What will you do if I disobey? Will you kill me? Is that all? Considering the other possible fates before me, it's hardly a punishment." He stared into Harry's eyes and for the first time, Harry perceived a deep sense of remorse within him. "I have done so much to deserve death," Antonin continued, "and I've given everything to make up for that. Not until this moment have I felt that I finally achieved balance."

He smiled and let out a long sigh. "Perhaps, if the sun rises tomorrow, I may finally find peace. Until then, there is nothing more that I can do for you, Harry. I have done my part. It is up to others to see it to the end." His eyes drifted over Harry's shoulder. "Goodbye, Ginny," he said softly. "You are a good person. Please remember that. No matter what happens, never forget that you are a good person." He turned away and reached for the figurine.

"No, don't—" Harry shouted, but it was too late. Antonin and the figurine were both gone. Anger mixed with confusion in Harry's mind and he quickly turned on Justinian again, raising his wand threateningly.

"Is this another trick?" growled Harry. "Is this another game? You said you know where the Temple is. You said you were going to take us there and you'll do it or I'll—"

"We leave in three hours," Justinian interrupted calmly.

Justinian's relaxed response did nothing to ease Harry's temper. "We'll leave _now_," he demanded.

Justinian was unaffected. "If I'm right, you didn't get any sleep at all last night, and very little the night before. You are going to face the most ancient magical power in the world. We have three hours to spare. I suggest you get as much rest as you can."

* * *

Just as Justinian promised, he led them out of Giza late that afternoon. Harry only managed to get two hours of sleep. He refused to leave Justinian alone. He insisted that one of them remained awake with him and offered to take the first shift. Ron took the second and Josef took the last hour. Ginny protested against Harry's insistence that she sleep through all three shifts, but accepted before both of them were forced to admit that he had done it because of the very real danger she was walking into. Despite not being asked to watch over Justinian, Hermione slept only briefly, and spent the rest of her time looking out the window at the dropping sun.

Just before they left, Justinian told them to pack a small bag. "Bring extra clothes, a small amount of food, and whatever else you might want to use when we reach the camp tonight."

"The camp?" Ron asked in confusion. "What camp? I thought we were going to the Temple?"

"We are," insisted Justinian, "but these places are heavily guarded with charms. Walking is the only safe way to travel and we'll stop for a spell at a camp on the way. It will be your last chance to have a meal and get some sleep before we reach the Temple. There are tents there already, but they're not terribly comfortable."

With bags slung over their shoulders, they left the pub and began walking toward the edge of the city. Harry hadn't considered just how big Giza was, and it took hours before they managed to see the desert stretching out toward the horizon. It didn't take much thought to figure out where they were headed.

"The pyramids?" Harry asked, raising an arm toward the enormous shapes rising into the sky ahead of them. "The temple is near the pyramids? How could everyone have such trouble finding it?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," Justinian said, "and we're not going to the pyramids."

Instead of arguing, Harry simply followed quietly, one hand always lingering close to the pocket where he'd put his wand. They walked on, steadily closing the distance between themselves and the three mountains of stone. They reached the edge of the city to find the pyramids looming over them and blocking most of the rays of the setting sun.

"And we're not here for the pyramids," Harry said questioningly. It was hard to believe they would choose that route without a good reason.

"No, Harry," Justinian said. "We're not here for the pyramids." With that, he turned south and began walking toward a much smaller, much more weather-beaten monument.

"This is what we have been looking for?" Ginny said, staring at the lumpy sculpture ahead of them as they approached. "The Great Sphinx?"

"It didn't always look like that," Justinian replied. "The Muggles changed it. Long ago, it was a great lion, proud and alert, standing watch over the greatest secret the world has known. The Muggles forgot about it, of course. They changed the sculpture to fit their desires and in doing so, helped the truth fade even more. Yet still, its spirit has not totally fled this place. It refused to give in to the relentless sand. It has remained, as much a monument to immortality than anything else. It still inspires awe. The Arabs call it the _Father of Fear,_ thought they may not fully know why."

"So... the Temple is... under the Sphinx?" Ron asked. "Or is it... inside?"

"Neither," Justinian answered. "This is merely the entrance."

"Yeah alright, but _where_?" replied Ron, looking about at the collection of Muggle tourists who were scattered about.

Justinian came to a sudden stop. "It is hidden," he said, looking up at the face of the Sphinx. "Wait and see."

Harry glared at him, feeling his impatience growing. Then he realized that Justinian wasn't looking at the Sphinx, but the setting sun. The last sliver of brilliant light was just about to sink beneath the horizon.

"That's why we were waiting," Hermione said, finally speaking up after hours of complete silence. "It's more than just finding the right place. We had to find the right time... a time when darkness and light came together."

"It's not hard to figure out, once you think about it," Justinian said. "You simply have to look for what you want to find."

"We want to find lions," Ginny said. "We found one. So now what are we looking for?"

Justinian turned around and smiled. Raising his arm slowly, he pointed over their shoulders to horizon opposite the sun. Harry and the others turned around and blinked their eyes, trying to figure out just what they were seeing. The air seemed to shimmer a little bit, revealing faint wisps of dark fog caught in the heat coming off the sand.

"What is that?" Ginny said.

"The other lion," Justinian told them. "One light, one dark. One visible, one hidden. Balance and duality in all things, you see? Of course, there is more, but we don't have time to discuss symbology. Come on."

As Justinian led them toward the hazy shape, it began to solidify while the rest of the world dissolved behind them. In a minute, the Sphinx was little more than a sandy blur and the foggy shape they had been walking toward had become an enormous black stone sculpture every bit as big as the Sphinx and just as weathered.

As the details became clearer, Harry was able to see that the lion had something in his mouth. Or, at the very least, what was left of it. Its lower jaw had cracked and fallen off some time ago, but you could still make out the shape of its teeth biting into a long twisting shape. It twisted down the lion's mane and coiled around its paw, ending in the surprisingly distinct shape of a snake's head burying its fangs in the lion's left paw.

Harry found himself so distracted by the imagery that he didn't even see the deep opening in the ground that opened up under the lion's face. Ron reached out to tap him on the shoulder just seconds before he would have stumbled down the very first step.

Justinian pulled a torch from the wall and lit it as they continued down the long stairs. After a while, the steps became less steep and they detected a gradual but persistent left hand spiral. The walls were never farther apart than Harry's arm span, but he could not see the ceiling. While it wasn't totally unlike the paths to the other chambers, Harry began to wonder just what sort of place they were headed to.

"How much farther is it? he asked.

"We should reach the camp in an hour, I think," Justinian replied.

"The camp?" Ginny replied. "We're camping down here?"

"No," Justinian replied flatly.

"Hold on, then," said Harry. "Where are we going then?"

"The Temple of Telahmet," answered Justinian. "That, however, was not what you really wanted to know was it? You're not so curious where we're going as where we are right now." Everyone continued on in silence for a moment.

"Alright, then," chimed Ron. "Since no one else is willing to do it. Just where are we right now? I'd have put some strong money on us being somewhere under that huge lion, but I guess that's too obvious to be true."

"We're nowhere, Ron," Justinian announced. "This tunnel is unplottable. It doesn't exist on any maps and neither does our destination. The wizards who put the cloaked wizard behind the Gates worked hard to see that no one would ever find the Temple by accident."

"Yeah, that makes sense," he replied under his breath. "If the bloody idiots wouldn't have hid it so well, this would've been over months ago."

Before long, the stairs came to an abrupt end and at the end of one last long corridor, they found a cavernous room. At the far end of the chamber was a large circular door made of metal. Sculpted in intricate detail around the perimeter was the shape of an enormous snake devouring its own tail. Beyond that, there was no other carvings and nothing suggesting a method of opening it.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell us what that means?" Harry asked as he approached the door.

"It is an ancient symbol," Justinian replied distractedly as he pulled out his wand and walked toward the wall near the door. "We could discuss it for hours, but for now I will say that it means many things to many people. It has been used to portray perfection, unity, eternity, and immortality. At the same time, it evokes the notion of futility and self-destruction. It is a reminder that our greatest ally against evil, may be evil itself. That is all you need to know."

"Right," Harry said sourly. "I'm just supposed to do what I'm told. I should blindly follow what others tell me. I don't need to understand the door to open it, right?"

"No," Justinian replied with a confused look. "You need to understand the door, but you don't need to open it." With a wave of his wand, part of the stone wall in front of him disappeared, revealing a roughly hewn hole. "And there should be no need to blindly follow. I've brought light and you've got a wand if you need more." He ducked into the hole and called for everyone else to follow.

Harry passed through seconds later and felt a distinct change in the air. It was warmer and dry. A pair of rough rock faces stood on either side of him and the last crimson rays of sunlight could be seen in the gap above them. They seemed to be in a deep ravine, but there was no sign of any stream that could have created it.

"Where are we now?" Ginny asked as she stepped through the hole with Josef right behind her.

"It's hard to say for sure," Justinian replied. "If you climb out of the canyon, you'll find yourself two or three days from Giza, but you'll never find the canyon again. There is strong magic protecting it. This place was meant to be forgotten."

"Someone should have told the blokes who put that door there," Ron mumbled. "What exactly was the point of it? Just to frustrate people?"

"Oh no. I'm sure it's a working door and I suspect Harry would have been capable of opening it. There simply wasn't any point in doing it. Parselmouths are rare, and greed is all too common. Thousands of people have found that door. Some of them were desperate enough to spend decades cutting their own way through. Perhaps the ancients expected their warnings to be enough to turn away thieves. Perhaps their charms have simply faded. It doesn't matter."

"I guess not," Ron replied. "So that's all it takes, then? You just have to find the other lion and sneak through the little hole and you've found the world's biggest secret?"

Justinian let out a short laugh. "I'm afraid not. There were... other tests. Many wizards have walked this path. No more than twenty have seen the Temple. Those of us who have, have sworn to defend it."

"You mean, you kill anyone else who manages to make it this far?" Harry asked. Justinian nodded quickly. "But you saw it," Harry continued. "You found the Temple. Why didn't Antonin kill you?"

"Oh, he tried," Justinian said with a short laugh. "He didn't know that I was following him. I had been tracking magical creatures for the past year. Tracking wizards was simple. I followed him into the temple. I could barely believe what I was seeing and I knew no one else would believe me either. So, I hid and waited. When Antonin returned, he was carrying a small box under one arm and used a small object in the other to close the door to the largest chamber. While his back was turned, I hit him with a hex and grabbed them both. He followed me after recovering and when he came out of the stairway under the lion, I told a few Egyptian inspectors that I'd seen him robbing a tomb. He was very upset when they arrested him."

"So, they kill you if you find the Temple, but if you manage to rob them and falsely accuse them of a crime, they let you join them?" Ron asked. "You're all nutters, you know?"

"That's exactly what I said when Zahi told me what I'd stolen," Justinian replied. "He said that I had an important role to play and that I could avenge the murder of my parents. When Antonin was finally released by the Egyptian inspectors, he found me and took back the small box."

"What was it?" Ginny asked slowly. It sounded as if she had already come to the same conclusion Harry had.

"You'll see it soon," Justinian replied. "Zahi will be bringing it with him tonight."

"And the other thing?" Ron asked. "The key, you haven't forgotten that, have you?"

"No, _I_ haven't," he answered. "It wasn't mine to forget. If our luck is holding, it is hanging around Ginny's neck right now."

Harry saw Ginny's hand jerk up to her chest, but she said nothing. This revelation had caught everyone off guard and for the moment, they were happy to simply walk along in the growing darkness while trying to figure out just why something so important had been entrusted to Ginny so long ago.

"Watch your footing," Justinian called back to them. "Stay to the middle of the canyon. The path is straight here and the torch should be enough light to walk by."

The walls on either side of them seemed to rise up higher, making the path even darker than it had been. The walls began to blend into the sandy floor and Harry had trouble making out just where the path was. His only clue was the dim flames from Justinian's torch as he walked ahead of them. Gradually, the way became easier as pale stones on either side of the path caught the light from the torch.

A loud _crack_ echoed through the ravine. Ron swore as he lost his footing and fell to the floor. Harry immediately turned to see if he was hurt.

"I'm fine," Ron said angrily. "Just a bit annoyed. We're walking through a canyon in a lifeless desert and I manage to trip on a tree branch of all things."

"That's not possible," Hermione said softly. As she looked into the darkness, Harry thought he could see a faint green glow in her left eye. "There are no trees here, Ron."

"Well, what else could it have been?" Ron replied as he stood up and dusted the sand off his robes. Lighting his wand he walked back a few feet and bent over to pick something up out of the sand. After a long pause, Harry heard Ron swear loudly, then drop the object back to the ground.

"It's a bone —a human bone," he shouted. "What the bloody hell is it doing here?"

In seconds Harry and everyone else had lit their wands and were aiming them at the sides of the path. The pale rocks he had seen were not rocks at all, but hundreds of skeletons, their bones broken and scattered. There were a few animals, but it didn't take him long to see a dozen human skulls.

"Is this what happens to anyone who sneaks down here?" Ron called out to Justinian. "You kill them and just leave them here as some sort of— warning? You're all bloody monsters! What the—"

"Ron," Josef interrupted. "I don't think Lynch or his friends are responsible for these."

"Then who is?"

"One of those," Josef replied, directing Ron's attention to a much larger skull, half buried in sand. A jumbled trail of crescent-shaped bones extended along the wall of the canyon. Harry walked over to the skull and inspected the few fangs which still remained in its jaw.

"Be careful, Harry," Justinian warned. "They might still have some venom left in them and I've forgotten to bring a phoenix."

"That was the other test?" Ginny shouted. "A Basilisk?"

"There's another there," Hermione announced, pointing her wand farther down the path.

Ginny was irate. "You brought us down here and you knew there were Basilisks? When were you going to tell us? Did you think that Harry would protect us all?"

Justinian rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm confident that Harry will be able to handle any Basilisks we encounter. However, I'm just as confident that Ron will be able to protect us from any we find here, since they've all been dead for four centuries. This is where most of those fools unfortunate enough to find their way here ended their journey. However, our journey tonight is taking us just a little further. Now, if you would follow me for just a few more minutes, we will reach our camp."

They all continued following him, Ron and Ginny grumbling a little more than the others, and in less than five minutes, they felt the walls of the ravine widen until it felt more like they were in an enormous hall. The gap between the walls was much wider at the floor than it was above them, but it was enough to give them a decent glimpse of the sky as it darkened. Two large tents and two small tents were set up nearby, with a small bundle of wood piled in the center for a fire.

"Did you... create this?" Ron asked as he looked around in awe.

"No, the Basilisks did," Justinian replied. "If you're lucky, this is the only Basilisk nest you will ever see in your lifetime."

"And you want us to just sit back and relax here?" Ron asked incredulously. "In a Basilisk nest? While we're trying to stop a dark wizard from destroying the world?"

"No," Justinian replied calmly. "I'm asking you to sleep here. None of you have gotten much rest lately. I know, because I've been tracking you. I need sleep as much as you do." He began walking toward one of the smaller tents and flicked his wand toward the wood, starting a small fire immediately.

"Listen," Harry began, "I'll sleep much better once this is all over. Can't we just get it over with?"

"Not without Zahi," Justinian said. He stepped into his tent and poked his head back out to give Harry a stern look. "I'm sure you've already figured out why. If he was here, then we'd go. He's not, so we have to wait. Eat if you're hungry, but promise me you'll try to get some sleep. We already have a difficult task ahead of us. Don't go trying to make it even harder. I have potions if you need them."

"I'll be alright," Harry replied heavily. Shaking his head in frustration, he walked to one of the larger tents with Ginny following close behind him. They found a pitcher of water on a nearby table and filled a couple small cups. They said very little to each other. There simply wasn't much to say. After replacing their dusty robes with pajamas, they slipped into bed. Harry found the bed to be overly warm, slightly lumpy and generally uncomfortable.

Within minutes, he was asleep.

* * *

Ginny awoke in the darkness to the sounds of boots approaching her tent. It took only a second for her thoughts to jump to Harry. Twisting in bed, she reached out toward the opposite side and found Harry lying just where he'd fallen asleep. With her immediate fears dispelled, new fears began to fill her mind, mixed with growing curiosity. Ginny stood up slowly, listening for the sound of the footsteps. They seemed to pause as they passed by and Ginny froze in fear.

What was she supposed to do? Should she wake Harry? Images of the cloaked wizard flashed through her mind, but something in her heart told her they were nothing but hollow fears. She felt no danger, no dread. She reached for her wand and began slowly walking toward the doorway.

"Ginny," a voice called. "I know you're awake."

It was Justinian. Ginny turned around again to look at Harry. He shifted a little in his sleep, but his breathing quickly settled back into a steady, if somewhat troubled rhythm.

"Ginny," Justinian whispered. "Please come out. There is something I need to show you."

Despite her apprehension, Ginny continued forward, pushing the flap of the tent aside. Standing on the other side was Justinian, his face an emotionless mask. He said nothing more to her, but motioned for her to follow him. A soft breeze blew cool air across her skin, reminding her that she was only wearing her nightgown.

"If you'll give me a minute, I'll put on some—"

"You won't need them," Justinian interrupted softly. "The stone walls keep the canyon warm well into the morning." The temperature was only one of the reasons why she wanted a cloak or a set of robes, but Justinian didn't seem to be understanding that. Ginny tried to explain that it would only take a moment, but he just shook his head. "There's no need, I assure you. Please, follow me, before the others wake up." There was something odd about his behavior. His expression was dull and all his motions were a little sluggish, as if he were weary from a long day of exertion.

Though Ginny knew this hadn't been the case and that he'd been much more energetic only a few hours earlier, she did as he asked and hoped that he might explain whatever had caused the change in his demeanor. Instead of answers, Ginny only got more questions as Justinian calmly led her away from the camp and further along the narrow canyon. As the path began to turn, Ginny came to an abrupt stop.

"This doesn't feel right," she said as fear began to creep into her mind again. "Where are we going? Why aren't we taking the others with us?"

"Because you are the one who must understand, not them," he replied in a somber voice.

"What do I need to understand?"

Justinian looked up at her, but there was no life behind his eyes. "You need to understand the consequences of your actions." Ginny recoiled immediately, reaching for her wand. Justinian remained completely still, making no move toward her. "I am not _him_," he reassured her. "I am not the cloaked wizard, and he doesn't control me. If I sound like him, it's only because I think I finally understand him."

Ginny kept her wand raised, slowly backing away. "You _understand_ him?" she asked. "He's completely mad. He's insane. He's not even human."

"He was, once," Justinian replied. "I used to wonder if there was a time when he was not so different from us. I'm fairly certain of it now."

"I loved Valencia, you know," he said as he turned and continued down the path slowly. "He knew that. That was why he did it. That was why he didn't just consume her like everyone else. He left her with only a shred of her soul to torture me with her suffering. She and I made the footsteps we have been following. I brought her here to give her the closest thing to death she would ever know."

"Is that what—" Ginny began.

"No, please listen," he said, stopping for a moment to look into Ginny's eyes. "That was mercy —a drop of honey in a cup of poison. He took her from me. He used Voldemort to take my family, too. I understand that now. He's taken everything that ever brought me joy. That is the price I've paid. I don't blame you for your fears. They serve you well. I simply ask you: What do you think he could offer me that would be worth what he has already taken?"

Suddenly Ginny understood the reason behind his behavior. He was broken and filled with despair.

"He has taken everything I love, and in doing that, he had made a grave mistake," Justinian said as he continued walking with Ginny at his side. "I now understand what it is to live with only one purpose. My only desire is to stop him. There is nothing I value above that single goal."

"What does this have to do with me?" Ginny asked. The path was now sloping downward quite a bit and she was forced to slow down in order to keep from slipping.

"I know I cannot stop him," Justinian replied, offering his hand to her as she climbed over a pile of tumbled rocks. "All of my hopes have been destroyed, all of them except one. You are that last hope, Ginny. In the end, you are the one who must see that my sacrifices —all of our sacrifices— have not been in vain."

The path leveled out and the sky disappeared above her as they entered a wide cave. "What do I have to do?" she asked.

Justinian lit his wand and aimed the beam of light toward the far end of the cavern. A large pair of heavy iron doors filled a tall archway. "I don't know, Ginny," said Justinian as he approached the doors. "No one does. That's something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

He pushed against the doors and the swung open easily. Ginny followed close behind him as he stepped through the arch. The darkness was so profound that it took some time before her eyes began to make out rows of dim shapes on either side of her which rose toward a ceiling beyond her vision. Some distance away, she could see a soft, white light gleaming off the stone floor, but it faded quickly and only made it more difficult to peer through the shadows.

"_Lumos,_" she whispered, and soft light burst from the tip of her wand. The first thing she noticed was the floor. It was made of dark stone, polished and damp. Echoing from somewhere above, she heard the sound of trickling water. Seeking the source, she raised her wand and froze. The rows of tall shapes on either side of them were pillars of black stone, carved in the shape of a pair of coiled snakes with their jaws opened and baring a pair of sharp fangs.

"It can't— This is—" she stammered. "It's the Chamber of Secrets," she said, gasping for air as horrible memories flooded back to her. She broke out into a cold sweat. "This isn't real," she whispered. "It's a dream. It can't be real."

"It is very real," Justinian assured her, "but it is not the Chamber of Secrets. This is the Temple of Telahmet. I suppose you could think of it as the original Chamber of Secrets, though its secrets are much more sinister than a Basilisk and hatred for Muggle-borns."

Ginny continued forward, passing rows of serpentine pillars. The light she had seen from the entrance was coming from a circular opening in the ceiling which permitted the moonlight to shine into the chamber. As she stepped into the moonlight, she noticed the tall statue looming over her. This statue, however, was not of Salazar Slytherin, but of a tall wizard wearing a hooded cloak. Light reflecting off the floor shone up toward the figure's face, dimly illuminating a pair of enormous green crystals set into its eyes.

"What is this?" Ginny asked, unable to take her eyes off the statue staring down at her. "How is it possible? It can't be a coincidence. It's almost _identical_ to the Chamber of Secrets, but it has to be much older. Did Slytherin... remember this?"

"Perhaps, but there is a simpler answer," Justinian said as he walked past Ginny to stand near the statue's feet. "For thousands of years the entrance to the Temple was sealed by magic and guarded by snakes transformed by the dark power trapped here. Even before they were broken, dozens of wizards had managed to unlock the doors, but we think Salazar Slytherin was the first Parseltongue. He alone managed to control the Basilisks. He spoke to them, and they told him of this chamber."

"He was here?" Ginny asked. "What was he looking for?"

"Power? Immortality? Explanations for the dreams which haunted him? I don't think we'll ever know," Justinian replied flatly. "It's possible that Slytherin didn't really know just what he was looking for. Whatever it was, he found many things here. The Basilisk Harry fought under Hogwarts was born here and brought back to Scotland by Slytherin. This is also where he found his hatred for Muggle-born wizards. He realized they were diluting the dark power which whispered secrets to him. However, there was one thing he could not find. He became obsessive about this place and constructed the Chamber of Secrets in the hopes of quieting the demon within him. He built it as an almost perfect copy, changing only the giant statue, recognizing the link between the cloaked wizard here and himself. Yet, it was not perfect. It was missing that one thing which he could not find, the one feature which continued to drive him mad."

"And what was that?" Ginny asked.

Justinian smiled for the first time that night. "A single doorway," he said clearly. "A doorway which had been hidden after the cloaked wizard was imprisoned. He had not expected that and his influence over Slytherin was far too weak to communicate such information. Slytherin died without even knowing what it was he was supposed to be looking for."

"But the wizard... does he know where it is, then?" she asked. "If he finds this place, will he—"

"He doesn't know," Justinian replied with confidence.

"How can you—"

"Five hundred years after Slytherin's death," continued Justinian, "another wizard came here. He had struck a bargain with the cloaked wizard and came here searching for the doorway. He was the one who killed the Basilisks."

"He... killed all of them? There were four of them. How could he—"

"The gaze of a Basilisk cannot kill a vampire," explained Justinian, "and certainly not one created by the same power which created the Basilisk."

"Wait," Ginny said, "he was a vampire? And he was here almost five hundred years ago? You mean it was—"

"Armaros Desmoda," Justinian said with a nod. "Valencia's father. He came here searching for the door and the chambers behind it."

"Did he find them?"

Justinian's smile returned. "Yes. Yes he did," he said, "but he never told the cloaked wizard what he found and he killed all of the Basilisks so no other Parseltongue could learn its location from them. We believe he kept it a secret, hoping to trade it in exchange for curing his wife of the curse he had given her. It was his last hope for saving her, but he was too clever to think that he would never be allowed to renegotiate his deal. So, he told one other person, hoping that someday they might be able to do what he could not."

"Valencia," Ginny said. "He told her. She said he told her everything."

"Yes, he told Valencia," he said, "but she was young and did not fully understand what he had told her. When she saw the Chamber of Secrets, she remembered what her father told her, but found nothing in the place he had told her about. She did not know about this Temple until I brought her here. She already knew what was here and she knew it was for the best. She sacrificed herself to keep him from finding what he'd been looking for over the last thousand years."

"Luckily, she is not the only one who knows its location," a new voice called out from behind Ginny. As she turned toward the sound, she felt a hand reach out to touch her shoulder. Intense heat radiated from the spot where it pressed against her skin, bringing a mixture of both pain and pleasure. Her eyes fluttered with the sensation, but she still managed to see a tall figure in a battered cloak step around her.

"The location of the doorway is not as much of a secret as you have portrayed it," the cloaked wizard said. "Show it to me and I will let you walk away."

"I have no intention of walking away," Justinian replied stonily.

"Ah, the nobility of sacrifice," the cloaked wizard sneered. "It is easy to sacrifice yourself when you have nothing else to live for, but are you so willing to sacrifice others who have not been emptied of hope? What about her?" he asked as his hold on Ginny's shoulder tightened. The sensations intensified suddenly and she struggled to stay on her feet as her stomach tightened and her knees buckled.

"You know where it is, Lynch," he continued. "Show it to me or I will force you to watch as she suffers."

"You won't do it," Justinian replied. "You can't. Even with all your hatred, some things are still beyond even you."

The hand on her shoulder clamped down suddenly, filling Ginny's body with excruciating pain. She dropped to her knees, gasping for air as agony crackled through her nerves. "I think you would be surprised at what I am capable of," the wizard growled. He left Ginny on the floor as he walked closer to Justinian.

"There is so much you cannot understand," he said. "What do you know of loss? What do you know of betrayal? You think I took Valencia from you, but you fail to see that she was never yours. She has always been mine, from the very moment of her birth. It is you who has taken something of mine. Without me, she would have been a corpse long ago. I gave her life. I gave her power. Everything she was, everything she had, everything she _knew_ was _mine_ and that is what you have taken from me."

"And you have taken everything from me," Justinian replied. "This is my vengeance."

"Vengeance?" the cloaked wizard roared. "You think you are worthy of seeking revenge against me? You arrogant child! You are barely worth my notice. How _dare_ you suggest such that your suffering can even be placed next to mine? You have taken what was rightfully mine. Now I will take it back. Tell me where the door is and I may let you follow Valencia." Ginny watched as he advanced on Justinian, quickly closing the distance until they were only a few feet apart.

As the cloaked wizard lunged for him, Justinian reached into his robes and pulled a long glittering object from one of his pockets. He swung it toward his attacker with surprising speed, The cloaked wizard let out a furious hiss and stumbled backward. His hand was pressed tightly against his neck, but it wasn't enough. Ginny could already see tiny streams of blood forming at the end of his fingers and trailing down his neck and shoulders.

"You should not have done that," the cloaked wizard snarled. "You know you cannot kill me. You cannot fight me. Now I will teach you what pain is. I will rip your soul to shreds."

Justinian simply stared back at the cloaked wizard as he methodically wiped the blood from his dagger on his robes. "My soul is my own," he said calmly. "I will not let you have it, and I will not let you have this body, either."

With a single, quick motion, Justinian spun the knife around in his hand and drove it into his own body, right under his ribs. The cloaked wizard let out a sharp roar and charged forward, immediately ripping the dagger from Justinian's chest and releasing a stream of blood onto the floor.

"You think you have won?" he hissed into Justinian's ear. "Nothing can save you from death, but I can see that your death comes more slowly and painfully than you ever imagined. The longer you keep me from my goal, the more you will suffer. It is pointless to fight any longer. You cannot stop me. Now, tell me where the door is or I will show you a glimpse of the torture I have endured."

Ginny pushed herself to her feet and stumbled forward. "No, I won't let you," she shouted. She raised her wand, pointing it not at the cloaked wizard, but at Justinian, who returned a gentle smile. She knew a dozen curses that could do the job, but she couldn't gather the courage to use them. She hesitated, the incantation caught in her throat, unable to speak it and kill another wizard even when she knew he was already dying.

A second later, a scalding hand was clutching at her wrist, filling her arm with pain. Her wand was suddenly blazing hot and before she could release it, she felt it shatter in her hand. A single shocked gasp escaped from her mouth as she stumbled backward. Her wand was destroyed. She was defenseless.

"A small price to pay," the cloaked wizard hissed. "You should have stayed where you were. This does not concern you, Ginny. Understand, however, that I am not beyond mercy. Lynch has chosen agony over obedience," he said, brandishing the dagger very close to her face. "You will not want to see what I must do now. We will meet again soon, Ginny, but for now: _Sleep_"

An overwhelming heaviness filled her limbs as the chamber swam around her and filled with a dark, swirling mist. She felt herself falling and the world drifted away quickly, dropping her into a deep oblivion.

* * *

Harry sat up in bed, searing pain throbbing in his head. Reaching up, he could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The moment he touched his scar, a new bolt of pain shot through him, making his muscles tense. He opened his eyes and blinked them uselessly. He knew it was dark, but all he could see were bright flashes of light which matched the throbbing agony inside him.

He tumbled from the bed and crawled along the floor toward the corner of the tent where he'd left his bag. There were potions inside to help with the pain. He'd expected something like this to happen, just not right then. He hadn't thought he'd need it until they found the cloaked wizard.

Fear burst through him, dulling the worst of the pain. He leaped to his feet, catching a small table and tossing it and everything on it across the small tent, creating a horrible clatter. Swearing to himself, he spun around quickly to grab his wand from the smaller table near the bed. He was pretty sure he'd just broken the only lamp, but his wand would work for the moment.

"_Lumos,_" he whispered. Light blazed from the tip of his wand, bringing the interior of the tent into sharp detail.

Immediately, he realized that the situation was much worse than he'd realized. For a moment he simply stared in shock at the other half of the bed. It was totally empty with the covers thrown back and no sign at all of Ginny. Scrambling across the tent floor, he ran his hand across the bed where she'd fallen asleep earlier and found the sheets cold.

_She was gone._

Harry burst out of the tent and began casting the light from his wand in all directions, desperately searching for any sign of Ginny. Within seconds, Josef had tumbled out of his tent and was running toward Harry, gripping his wand tightly in one hand while the other tugged at a Shield Cloak.

"What is it, Harry?" he called out, quickly closing the distance between them. "Did you hear something or— bloody hell, Harry. Your scar, it's—"

"Ginny's gone," Harry barked, still pointing his wand around the camp in vain.

"She's _gone_?" Ron shouted from somewhere behind Harry. "What do you mean, she's gone?"

"_She's gone!_" shouted Harry. "She's _not here!_ What part of that is difficult to understand?" He looked around one last time, but he couldn't ignore the obvious answer. She was gone and the cloaked wizard was nearby. Harry swore at himself again. He should have expected something like this to happen. He'd seen all the signs. The cloaked wizard had invaded Ginny's dreams, just as he had invaded Harry's. If the old man in the library was right, then there was little difference between the cloaked wizard and the fragment of Tom Riddle who had seduced Ginny so long ago. If he'd done it before, there was no reason to think he couldn't do it again.

"I have to find her," Harry announced to himself more than any of the others. With his wand clenched tightly in his hand, he began running off into the darkness.

Something inside him changed. Anger began boiling up from his stomach. He had to find her. She was the only thing that mattered. He had done it all for her. Now she was gone. He had to bring her back. He had to go after her, but the harder he tried to move, the more difficult it became. He felt strong hands clutching at him, tugging at his clothes and pulling him away from Ginny. He spun quickly, and found a dark figure staring down at him with blazing green eyes and black fangs dripping with blood. Harry raised his wand and felt his arm throb with power. He stared into those eyes and felt an overwhelming rage. He reacted without thought.

"_Avada Kedav—_"

"_Harry!_"

Harry felt a cold wind blow across his skin and when he blinked his eyes, he found Josef standing before him, clutching at Harry's pajamas in one hand and struggling against Harry's wand arm with the other. There was a look of real terror on his face.

"Relax, Harry, _please,_" begged Josef. Harry felt himself break into a cold sweat as he dropped his wand to his side and stared at Josef with fear at what he'd almost done. Behind Josef, Ron and Hermione were looking every bit as horrified as he felt. He wanted to run away, but he knew he couldn't.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammered. "I— I wasn't thinking. We—" he began, then swallowed and let the cool breeze wash over him again. "We need to find her."

"Yes, I know, Harry," Josef agreed. "We will find her, I promise you, but right now you need to relax. We'll go as soon as you get dressed."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath. "There's no time. He's here. He's nearby. I can—"

"I know," Josef said firmly. "I understand, Harry, I do. We knew this was going to happen, remember? We came here to stop him. We knew he'd try to stop us. Don't let him control you, Harry. He knows you're impatient. You can't let him trick you into doing something foolish. Listen to me, Harry," he said, stepping closer. "We're going to find Ginny. We can put an end to all of this, but not if we're unprepared."

"I'm fine," Harry replied. "All I need is a wand."

Josef frowned at him. "You're not even wearing boots, Harry." Looking down, Harry saw his bare feet standing on the rocky ground, leaving little spots of blood from dozens of small cuts. More blood was soaking into his pajamas from a cut on his knee. He looked into Josef's eyes and saw the same urgency he felt.

Relenting, Harry walked back to his tent. Josef walked with him after telling Ron and Hermione to return to their tents and gather up whatever they needed. After Harry put on boots, fresh robes and a cloak, he began to rummage through the bag he brought. He drank most of a healing potion, leaving the rest of them. He couldn't have them making noise while he ran and if they failed, no potion would help them. Satisfied, he stood up and nodded to Josef.

"Bring Ginny's wand, too," Josef said. "She'll want it when we find her." His confidence encouraged Harry. He walked to the other side of the bed and looked down at the small table where he had seen Ginny place her wand earlier that night. There was nothing there. After taking a minute to search the floor, he looked up at Josef.

"It's gone," he said. "She must have taken it with her. Maybe she knew she was in danger."

Josef's eyes narrowed. He looked around the tent quickly and stopped abruptly on a pile of clothes nearby. Walking over to them, he snatched up the black cloak she'd been wearing. "She left this, though," he said. "And there are two sets of robes, here." He rolled up the cloak and tossed it to Harry. "If she knew she was putting herself in danger, why do it in a nightgown?"

"I— Well maybe—" Harry stammered, unable to see what Josef was thinking.

"Someone told her she didn't need them," he answered.

"But who?" asked Harry. "No one knows we're here. Ron and Hermione were asleep and—"

Harry and Josef burst out of the tent and strode toward Ron and Hermione who were standing near the center of the camp. "_Where is Lynch?_" Josef growled.

Ron shook his head. "His tent is empty," he replied. "It doesn't even look like he slept in his bed."

"What has that bloody idiot done?" Josef said. "I swear, I'll teach him a new definition of pain when I find him." He paused to look down either end of the canyon. "Which way do you think he took her?" he asked. "Is he an idiot who took her to the Temple alone, or a traitor who is going to lock us into this canyon while he runs off with her?"

Harry looked at both options, but the answer was already clear to him. "He's no traitor," he said. "Ginny's smarter than that. She followed him because she thought it was the best thing to do. He took her to the temple."

The four of them ran off down the path. There were no forks, no branches and no other caves opening into the canyon. After only a short while they managed to find footprints in a patch of sand. One set was made by a light boot and the other set had been made by a petite pair of bare feet.

Ron and Harry led the way, slowing only to examine the tracks where they crossed sand soft enough to leave evidence of their passing. They continued onward, moving as quickly as they could. Hermione kept up with them and Harry didn't allow himself to question where this new stamina came from. He only cared about finding Ginny.

They followed the path down a steep slope and into a dark cave. As the path bottomed out, they stepped through a pair of open doors into an enormous cavern. Far ahead of them was a soft white light, but Harry didn't let himself get distracted by it. They all slowed their pace to a slow creep as their eyes searched the shadows for signs of danger. Josef quickly stopped Ron from lighting his wand and instead instructed them to wait until they adjusted to the darkness.

Slowly, the shadows around them began to take form. Harry felt a slow dread building inside him. The place felt familiar and it had awoken horrible memories which churned just under the surface of his mind. Stepping closer to one of the large shapes nearby, he ignored Josef's warning and cast a beam of light at the very base of it.

"No... No, it can't be—" he murmured as the head of an enormous stone snake stared back at him, its fangs bared and ready to strike.

"Hold on," Ron said. "I've see that before. It's just like— Wait, are we—"

"It's the Chamber of Secrets," Harry whispered, "but it's not the one at Hogwarts. It's... something else." Memories which had been locked inside his head now bubbled to the surface. He ignored the rest of the shadows. His eyes locked on the faint white light at the end of the long chamber. Looking closely, he could see something in the light. His heart began to beat faster.

"No..." he whispered as he began to walk toward the light. "No, it was just a dream. It was just another lie. It wasn't real."

"What was a lie, Harry?" asked Josef.

Harry ignored him and began to walk faster. Rows of snakes twisted up to the ceiling on either side of him, while the darkness behind them whispered a thousand horrible nightmares. Ahead of him, he could now see an unwelcome color reflecting off the floor. "No," he called out again. "This isn't how it was. She got up. She was alright. In my dream, she wasn't dead!"

Harry ran past the last set of columns and skidded to a halt. Before him, his nightmares had manifested themselves into a macabre scene that paralyzed him with fear.

Within the wide circle of moonlight shining down onto the floor was a large pool of crimson blood, and lying in the very center of it was a young woman wearing a radiant white nightgown. She was curled with her face away from him and her long, fiery red hair draping down onto the bloodstained floor.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Well, after yet another request to post and update, here you are. I was going to post this tomorrow, but who am I to ignore loyal readers? I hope people enjoy the answers they are getting. With a little luck, everyone will start seeing all the connections. The linkage to the Chamber of Secrets is a particular favorite of mine. Bonus points to anyone who recognized the reenactment of Harry's dream before he actually mentioned it.

So, there are just two chapters left, and as a group, they are about 30 finished. When they are finished, I'll be posting them at the same time (or within a day or two). The reason for this is that they are closely tied together and I don't want people to have to stew on Chapter 21 while I write up 22. Now, the only bad news I have is that I don't expect them to be ready until Halloween. So, this will require some patience. Hopefully everyone (or at least many of you) will trust me that it's going to be worth while and that you wouldn't have fun waiting between Chapter 21 and 22. That said, I'm off to go work on Chapter 21.


	21. Forget to Remember

_This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 21**

**Forget to Remember**

* * *

Harry ran toward the young woman lying in the pool of blood, already knowing who it was and still hoping that he was somehow wrong. His head throbbed with pain and his heart was pounding in his chest, but he ignored them both and reached the pool in seconds. He came to an abrupt halt and stared down at her. Unable to breathe or even think, he cautiously walked around the edge, dreading the inevitable.

"Ginny!" he cried, leaping toward her. The blood surrounding her was still wet, and small crimson droplets splattered across her nightgown as Harry rushed to her side. He felt suddenly cold and empty. Ginny was lying perfectly still, with her eyes closed and a totally blank expression on her face. He looked over her pale body, searching for a wound. He couldn't see anything, but the sheer amount of blood surrounding her was difficult to dismiss. He stopped and simply stared down at her. She wasn't breathing.

"No," Harry said again, remembering his dreams. "It's not true. She was alive. She woke up. She wasn't dead. This isn't how it went."

"It can't be—" he heard Josef gasp. Harry was vaguely aware of the others standing nearby staring down at Ginny.

"Wake up, Ginny," Harry whispered as he reached out to wipe a small droplet of blood from her cheek.

Without warning, Ginny's eyes blinked open and stared up at Harry. This caught him so off guard that he lost his balance and fell back into the pool of blood.

"Harry?" she gasped, staring at him with fear. "Is it— Are you—"

"Yes, it's me," he answered, barely believing what he was seeing. "I— I thought you were dead."

"Why would you think—" she began, but stopped abruptly. She shifted a little, and stared up at the moon shining down on her. "I was sleeping and then— Where am I?" Before Harry could answer, she sat up. Within seconds of touching the floor, she jerked her hands away. Holding one in front of her, she stared at the blood dripping from it and let out a piercing scream.

Harry lunged for her, but she jerked away, leaping to her feet and running off into the shadows. With visions of his dreams still fresh in his mind, Harry dashed off after her. He found her huddled against the nearest pillar, staring down at the blood-soaked nightgown and desperately trying to breathe. As he approached, she let out another terrified shriek and raised a bloody arm as if she were aiming a wand at him.

"Ginny, it's me, it's Harry," he said as he approached her slowly. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Ginny's eyes darted from Harry's face, to the pool of blood behind him and the cavernous hall around her. "It's... real?" she asked weakly. "Was it real? I thought— I hoped—"

"Ginny, are you hurt?" Harry repeated as he stepped closer. He could hear the others walking up behind him.

Ginny paused a moment to look at them. "I don't think so," she whispered. Her body went limp and she slid to the base of the pillar. Within seconds, Harry, Josef and Ron were at her side.

"What happened Ginny?" Harry asked. "What did Justinian do?"

Ginny's head jerked toward Harry, then back to the pool of blood. She let out a sharp gasp and said just one word: "Justinian..."

"Not now, Ginny," Josef commanded. "Just sit still for a moment. I'm going to clean you up." Ginny nodded silently and closed her eyes. Swirling his wand across her stained clothes and skin, Josef slowly removed all signs of the blood, making her nightgown seem to glow again in the dim light. Working quickly, Harry checked her for any injury and found nothing, just as she'd guessed. He helped Ginny to her feet while Josef retrieved the cloak he'd grabbed from her tent and wrapped it around her.

She pulled the material tight and seemed calmed by it. As his breathing became a little more normal, Harry asked her once again about what had happened. The similarity to his dream could not be a coincidence. Something important had happened and he needed to know what it was. "Justinian brought you here, didn't he? What did he do then, Ginny? Did he try to kill you? Did you heal yourself?"

"There's too much blood, Harry," Josef commented quietly as he crouched down next to her. "She couldn't lose that much and still stand here. The blood isn't hers."

"It's Justinian's," Ginny told them, a haunted look in her eyes as they found the pool yet again. "He brought me here to try and help me understand... but the cloaked wizard was already here. He was waiting for us. He needed something from Justinian and Justinian killed himself to keep him from getting it. He— _it_ said it would torture Justinian if he didn't tell him where it was. If he's not here then..."

"What was he looking for?" Harry asked, suddenly fearful that they'd already lost their chance.

"A doorway."

"A doorway to what?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know. He didn't say. The rest of the Temple, I think. It's hidden. The cloaked wizard has been looking for it all this time. That's what Valencia's father found. If he's not here then that means he found it and we're too late. Justinian didn't tell me where it was. No one else knows."

Harry let out a frustrated shout and spun away. Feeling all his energy draining away from him, he dropped to the floor in defeat. There was nothing left to do. They had reached the final dead end. Their last hope had been stolen from them, leaving only a pool of glistening blood in a cathedral to the hatred they had all been trying to stop. He looked down at the floor, found one of Ginny's bloody footprints and felt his scar sting with fresh pain.

"You said he was looking for a doorway?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but—"

"I know where it is," he announced.

"What? How can you know that?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Harry said as he stood up again and thought back to the dream he was having when Ginny first saw the vision of the cloaked wizard at Grimmauld Place. Looking down at the bloody footsteps, he knew it wasn't a coincidence. When he had found Evelyn in the Chamber of Secrets, she had shown a bizarre interest in the same dream. Somehow, he knew about the doorway, and the cloaked wizard had been using the dreams to try and get Harry to tell him where it was.

He quickly traced the same path he had walked in his dream and remembered taking the same route with Evelyn in the Chamber. The wall had been empty in the Chamber, but he'd shown it to her. Why hadn't she told the cloaked wizard about what Harry had shown her? Did he not believe her? Did she not understand what he had shown her? It didn't make sense, but Harry didn't have time to think about it. With the others following close behind him, he rushed to the wall where he'd found the arched doorway in his dreams, but found only a flat expanse of wall.

"It's here," he said. "This is where it was. I'm sure of it."

"It's obviously hidden," commented Josef. "We just have to find out how to make it appear." He began chanting a number of spells and waving his wand about in an attempt to find the wall, but Harry knew that it was pointless. That would be too easy. The cloaked wizard would have tried everything like that before Justinian came along. It had to be something else.

He thought back to his dream. He was missing some vital part of the puzzle. He had seen Ginny run through the doorway without more than a moment's pause. Perhaps it was no different than the platform at King's Cross. He stood back for a moment, then threw himself against the wall. His palms struck the wall hard and he managed to stop himself just before his face struck the rough stone. As he pushed away, his own hand caught his eye. There was something that was missing and it was the one thing that Justinian had left behind for them to find. He quickly ran back to the feet of the enormous statue.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ginny called out.

Somehow, Harry already knew what the answer to the riddle. Reaching out to the ground, Harry placed his hand in the pool of blood and then walked back to the empty wall. Placing his hand firmly against the stone, he heard a deep rumble and felt the floor shudder. The stone blocks in the wall folded and slid away from his hand, twisting and squeezing together until they formed the large arched doorway Harry had seen in his dreams.

"We go inside," he announced.

Josef frowned. "And do what? Do you even know what is in there?"

"A corridor," Harry answered, "a set of doorways and the very last of the Veils."

* * *

Ginny hesitated for a moment while Harry stepped through the door. She couldn't help but feel some apprehension about following Harry someplace he had seen in his dreams. She had the sudden urge to call out and beg Harry to leave with her, to run away and try to live the rest of their lives, no matter how long that might be.

She woke up from the fantasy when Josef walked up to her. As his eyes looked into hers, she remembered that they weren't there just to save their own lives, but to save everyone else. She remembered Justinian begging her to finish what he started, to make his sacrifices worthwhile.

Her mind wandered to Antonin, the man who she had known as Albert and a good friend. What sacrifices had he made? What had he done to create such a cold, hard shell around himself? She knew his father had died. Had the cloaked wizard played a part in that? She thought of the day he'd told her that story. There had been truth in his eyes that day. Whatever name he had been using, that day, he had been real. He was counting on her, too. He knew something and he had wagered his entire life on the hope that Ginny would be able to make it all have some meaning. She couldn't let them all down now. Pulling up the hood of her cloak, she began following Harry with Josef at her side.

Beyond the doorway, they found a long narrow corridor which seemed to be covered in a thin layer of sand. It was gritty against her bare feet, but fine enough that it was preferable to the rough rock. After only a few seconds, Ginny realized that Ron and Hermione weren't behind her.

Calling out to Harry, she stopped and turned to look for them. Hermione was still at the doorway and Ron was halfway between them, looking obviously torn.

"Maybe I shouldn't follow you," Hermione suggested. "He'll know you're coming."

Harry began walking back to her. "I'm aware of that," he said firmly. "I don't think that's going to change if you stay behind. You're not the only one who shares a connection with him, but you're the only one who seems to be able to use it. Besides, I want him to know we're coming."

Upon hearing that, Josef let out a long sigh. "So, you actually have a plan then, Harry?" he asked wearily. "What is it? Can you tell us how you intend to stop him? Have you even thought that far in the future, or are you just doing the first thing that comes to mind?"

Harry spun around, giving Josef a sharp glare. "There's no time for elaborate plans, Josef," he said through clenched teeth. "He's here, isn't he, Hermione?" Everyone turned back to Hermione, who still hadn't stepped through the doorway.

"I— Yes," she answered weakly. "I don't really know where, though. I think he's trying to keep himself hidden, but he's close by."

"That's no reason to go rushing off to find him, Harry," Josef said. "Take a moment and just _think_. What are you going to do if you find him? What has changed since London? We can't fight him. Our only hope was in finding the Jewel of Darkness and Lynch made it pretty clear that it's not here."

"And that's exactly why we have to find the cloaked wizard as quickly as possible. The longer we can keep him from figuring that out, the more time the old wizard from the library has to bring it here." Harry didn't wait for anyone to agree with him, he simply turned and continued down the corridor. Ginny hesitated for a moment, but once she saw Harry walking away, she knew in her heart that she had only one choice. As she walked after him, she heard Josef call back to Ron and Hermione, urging them to hurry.

Just a short way down the corridor, they reached a sharp corner. As Harry paused to let the others catch up, Ginny noticed that the stone work in the tunnel was not quite like the masonry in the copy of the Chamber behind them. The walls were cut straight and worn smooth, giving them an eerily artificial feeling yet making them seem immensely old. Ron and Hermione arrived seconds later and as Harry began walking again, Ginny thought she caught a shadow shifting as the corridor behind them darkened.

Josef noticed her hesitation immediately. "What is it, Ginny?" he asked. "Did you see something?"

"I— I don't know," she said.

Harry and Josef pointed their wands back down the tunnel, filling it with soft, white light. After seeing nothing for some time, Ginny sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes.

"It's nothing," she said. "I think I'm still a little shaken."

"It's more likely that you saw the arch sealing itself again," suggested Josef.

"And you're not worried about that?" she replied. "What if we can't get it to open again?"

Josef returned a sober gaze. "One thing at a time, Ginny," he said softly. "If that is our biggest worry, then I'd say we're pretty lucky."

Ginny nodded and followed Harry as he continued down the tunnel as it shifted course a few times. As she walked, she stole the occasional glance behind her. She never saw anything at all, but she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. It didn't seem to be behind her anymore, but all around her. Everywhere she looked, she saw invisible shapes in the shadows holding bloody daggers or baring black fangs. She felt as if she was beginning to lose her mind. When they found the small room, she nearly collapsed on the floor in relief.

Ron found a number of lamps hanging from the ceiling and lit them, filling the room with golden light. Once it was lit, Ginny found it much less welcoming. It was a small room, not much larger than her bedroom in the house on Grimmauld Place, but it was round with a domed ceiling, giving it a feeling like all the other antechambers which had led them to a Veil. However, unlike the others, this one was not empty. A large table stood in the very center of the room, looking conspicuously empty. The walls were lined with several sets of curved bookshelves holding a collection of clearly ancient books and scrolls. Standing between them and scattered throughout the shelves was a diverse collection of artifacts which were simultaneously amazing and disturbing.

Standing next to a second doorway leading out of the room was a man-sized copy of the statue which had been looming over the end of the chamber where they found the doorway. The shelves held smaller golden idols of snakes and lions, mosaics depicting large dark jewels, and even a large clay tablet bearing the image of the Ouroboros. Ginny found herself captivated by the mysterious objects surrounding her. It was as if every object they had hoped to find in the past year had been squirreled away in this small room.

Despite his impatience, even Harry agreed that it was worth taking a short moment to try and see if there was anything immediately useful to them. After a minute of intense searching, Josef called out to the others. As they gathered around, he lifted a book off one of the shelves and onto the table in the middle of the room.

"_The History of Magic,_" he announced, "It doesn't seem to say which volume it is." The book was large, made of rough parchment and bound between a pair of black marble covers. Upon opening it, they could see that it wasn't like the others. There was no empty page to sign and the book didn't seem to be willing to translate itself. Paging through it quickly, he searched for the Chapter on Death Gates and managed to find it by spotting a set of familiar illustrations. This time, however, the pages weren't darkened or faded. This copy hadn't been vandalized. In fact, it looked pristine. The writing in it was still dark and crisp, though that did little to help them understand it.

"It's in some sort of code," Ron said, looking down at the pages of lines and curves jumbled together on the page.

Hermione pushed to the front. "No, it's hieratic again," she said, staring down at it in amazement. "Oh my. This... This might be the original version."

Ginny stared down at the text. They had finally found a copy with all its pages intact. Perhaps it held some secret that would help them. Perhaps it could tell her why the cloaked wizard was so obsessed with her. "Can you read it?" she asked Hermione. "What does it say?"

"I told you," said Hermione, "I never learned enough to really read it. It would take me days just to get a rough idea."

"We don't have that long," Harry said. "Can we bring it with us?"

Josef let out a short grunt. "Sure, if you want to carry it," he said. "The bloody thing weighs as much as my leg."

"Right. We'll have to leave it then."

Harry began making his way toward the second arched doorway leading out of the room. As Ginny followed mechanically, she found herself staring back at the book, wondering what it would have told them. Would it have explained how they could defeat the cloaked wizard, or would it explain just how hopeless their quest was? Ginny found that she no longer wanted to know. It didn't really matter in the end. Harry wouldn't give up.

With grim determination, she followed closely behind him as he led them all down yet another corridor. This one was wider and taller, though the nature of the stone around them remained unchanged. They took a sharp left turn followed by a sharp right a short while later. There seemed to be little reason for the abnormal path. It felt as if the people who had made the tunnel weren't terribly sure where they were trying to go.

A minute later, they took another abrupt turn and found themselves standing in front of a large arched wall of polished gold. Faint lines were etched into the gold forming the shapes of thousands of lions and serpents locked into an epic battle, but another shape dominated their appearance: a large circle, cut deep into the surface and crossed by three equally spaced lines. In the center of the circle was a small, circular indentation with another set of three small lines inside it.

The sight of it seemed to trouble Harry, and he quickly backed away. Ginny stepped closer to him. "What is it, Harry?" she whispered.

"These are the doors," he said, as if he expected her to immediately understand.

"What's on the other side?"

"I don't know," he replied, "but that's where we have to go."

"How do we open it?" Ron asked as he walked closer. "It looks pretty solid."

Ginny watched as Harry inspected them closely. She could see no hinge or gap to say just how it would open, but that didn't seem to bother Harry all that much. He placed his hands against the door and as he braced himself to push, Ron and Josef raised their wands. Ginny's hand reached blindly for her pocket and found nothing.

"My wand," she gasped, remembering what had happened earlier. "It's gone," she said in horror. "He destroyed it."

"It does not matter," Harry said without turning away from the doors. "It would be useless against him anyway. That is not what he's afraid of." Ginny found his hollow tone ominous. For a moment, he sounded a little too much like the cloaked wizard. Without a wand, Ginny decided to take a step back behind Ron and Josef and watch with Hermione as Harry signaled to everyone that it was time. He took a deep breath and threw his weight against the doors. They didn't move, and nothing Harry did seemed to change that.

"They're locked?" Ginny asked. "That doesn't make sense. Is there something we're missing? Do you know how to open them?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, he just looked at the doors confusedly and approached them again, placing his hands against the center of the circle and running his fingers down the center of the door, searching for some sign of how to open it. "In my dream," he began slowly, "they weren't locked. You had already unlocked them."

Harry's eyes were locked onto Ginny's chest, where a thin gold chain hung down from her neck and plunged underneath her nightgown. Hidden behind the light fabric was the talisman Justinian had given her so long ago. He had told them that it was a key. Perhaps this door was the lock.

Quickly pulling it out, she stared down at it. The large black stone set in its center was exactly the same size as the small indentation in the center of the circle. There was no sound, no flash of light or any other signal to tell them whether it had worked or not. Just when Ginny was about to give up and take the amulet back, she saw a faint line appearing down the center of the doors. At first it was barely visible, but it grew quickly until it became a deep crevice between the two halves. Then, with a deep grinding sound, the door began to swing open toward them. Ginny retrieved the talisman from the door and quickly stepped aside.

Harry gripped the stone slabs and pulled, widening the opening quickly and revealing a black emptiness on the other side of the doorway. They didn't venture in more than a few steps before the complete darkness brought them to a halt. "I can't see any lamps," Ron commented as he cast the light from his wand up at the domed ceiling hanging high overhead. "I can't see anything at all."

"I don't like this, Harry," Josef announced almost immediately. "This place is cursed."

"It feels like _him_," Hermione whispered from the doorway. Ginny couldn't help but feel it, too. Though still hidden by a thick darkness, she could feel the walls of the room throbbing with a palpable hatred. As they took a few more cautious steps, Ginny began to appreciate the size of the room. The walls flanking the door had fallen off behind them and the far walls were only dimly visible. It was another domed chamber, but this one was much larger than the previous one. As Josef cast the light from his wand about the room, Ginny caught a glint of gold surrounded by an impenetrable darkness.

Harry had seen it, too. "What was that?" he called out, pointing his wand toward the flash of light.

Hovering in the very center of the room at waist height was a large ring of gold which looked to be identical to the talismans the Brotherhood had worn and quite similar to the ring which had been embedded into the platform around the Veil in Romania. One of the large silver orbs that the ring passed through was directly in front of them, but the others were hidden by something that Ginny couldn't quite make sense of. It was as if the light from everyone's wands simply refused to pass beyond the ring.

They approached slowly, intrigued by this mysterious phenomenon. As Ginny circled around it, she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. It looked almost like a ball of swirling black mist, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make out an edge or even the true shape of the thing. It swirled and pulsed, though not in any way that Ginny could really describe. She simply felt it. It was as if she were staring into a hole in reality.

"It's a Veil," Harry announced as he circled around it toward Ginny.

"It doesn't look like the others," commented Ron. "It doesn't even have a veil. It's just... there."

"That's because it is the first," Hermione explained in a flat tone. "This is where it all started..."

"And this is where it has to end," Harry finished. "Ron, in the smaller chamber, there was a chest filled with torches. Bring a half dozen here," he said, adding, "and put a few in the corridor between the two chambers. I assume that's what the holes in the wall were cut for."

While Ron ran back to the smaller chamber, the rest of them waited in the larger one. It was clear that Harry thought the dark sphere was more important than chasing the cloaked wizard and for once Josef agreed with him. Using their wands for light until Ron returned, they began inspecting the room. A second doorway was cut into the far side of the room and as they approached it, they realized that the walls were covered with carvings and simple paintings. They began taking a closer look at the markings while Hermione stayed by the door, unwilling to venture farther into the room for the moment.

Most of the marks were disorganized and messy, many of them seem to have been created and then scratched smooth again. The paintings weren't made with paint at all, but seemed to be made with some sort of dust or pigment that had been spread onto the wall. Over the centuries it had flaked off, making it difficult to see the original image. Soon enough, however, they found something a little more recognizable.

"I can't say this is surprising," commented Harry as he pointed his wand at a large circle carved into the wall. Three small lines crossed the circle, cutting it into equal sections. Only inches away from it, another circle had been carved, this one smaller and not quite complete. A third and fourth weren't far away.

"What does it mean?" Ginny asked. "The rest of the temple is so perfect, but here it's so... disorganized. Why make four copies? Why is one of them incomplete?"

"Because they weren't perfect," answered Josef. "He was practicing." He had moved a few steps away and was looking at another section of the wall. When Ginny stepped closer to him, she saw yet another circle carved into the wall. This time, however, the circle was large and carved much deeper and smoother than the others. The line which crossed it at the very bottom of the circle was longer than the others, continuing well beyond the circle. As it traveled down, it passed a carved figure of a man who seemed to have his arm pointing off into the distance. As odd as this was, their attention was quickly captured by something even more interesting. At the very bottom of the line, they found a large group of carvings which Ginny immediately recognized.

"I've seen this before," Harry announced weakly.

"We know, Harry," Ginny said. "We've all seen them before."

Harry shook his head slowly. "No... it's something more than that. I— I can't quite place it but I've—"

"Did you find something?" Ron called out as he stepped into the chamber. Ginny turned around and saw him carrying a bunch of torches under one arm. A soft light was flickering through the doorway behind him.

"We found a carving that matches that picture we found in the book," Ginny told him.

Turning back to take a closer look, Ginny could see the images much clearer than she had in the fuzzy drawing. It was easy to pick out the knight's sword and the traitor's dagger. Both of them had been tinted dark maroon. They were both overshadowed by the other two figures, however. The one at the top had been carved deeply and more roughly than the others and smudged with thick black dust. It seemed to have been scratched out and carved again several times. Upon closer inspection, they found it hadn't been colored, but actually burnt. The very rock it was carved into had been blackened.

The chamber began to brighten as Ron lit the torches. Hermione had finally stepped out of the doorway to help him, charming the torches to hang in the air around the outside of the room.

In the growing light, she saw the last of the four figures. Here, the carving was more delicate and intricate, using graceful, soft lines to create a decidedly feminine shape. The figure was covered in white powder and, just as Ginny had guessed when looking at the drawing, reaching up toward the long diamond-shaped black crystal in the center. There was, however, something odd that caught her attention. The stone around the head of the fourth figure was oddly discolored. She extended a hand to gently brush away the light dust covering the carving. Her finger brushed across the stone, revealing a halo of flame-orange.

"No... No. It's not fair," Ginny said as she backed away from the carving. "I don't care what color her hair was. I'm not _her_," she growled.

"We know that, Ginny," Harry said. "Just relax."

"Relax?" she snapped. "That's easy for you to say. Look at the carving, Harry. That's who he thinks I am. He thinks I have the Jewel. He thinks that I'm the one who did this to him." Harry walked toward her, but she backed away again. "I haven't done anything. I don't know who she is, and I don't want to know her. She's the one who turned him into what he is now. How could anyone good do that? I would never do that, but I'm the one he's blaming."

"This isn't about her, Ginny," Harry said in a calming tone. "He's the one who's doing these things. It doesn't matter why. He's attacking us because we're trying to stop him."

"No, Harry," she replied bitterly. "Have you forgotten? Voldemort, Slytherin, Tarus... they're all the same. They're all him. Tom attacked me before I even knew the Veils existed. He came after me before I could even fight back, Harry. I didn't do anything. _She_ did," Ginny shouted, pointing at the carving.

"Ginny!" Harry called out as he lunged for her and pulled her toward him. Only then did Ginny realize how close she had gotten to the dark sphere. A fresh wave of fear passed through her, seeing the golden ring only an arm's length away. Harry gently pulled her to safety and gave her a sympathetic look.

"Why me, Harry?" she asked as she stared into the dark emptiness. "All of this is happening because he thinks I'm her. What did I do? There are thousands of witches with red hair. Why pick me? There has to be something more than that."

"I'm afraid there is," Ron said from across the chamber.

"What is it?" Josef asked. "What did you find?"

"A... portrait," Ron answered slowly.

"Is it the Angel?"

"No," he replied. "It's Ginny."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Ron, I'm not in the mood for this. It's not me, alright? This chamber is thousands of years old, and you're my older brother."

"Yeah, that's all well and good, but it doesn't do much to explain why there's a bloody great portrait of you on the wall."

"You're not listening—"

"I don't have to listen," Ron shot back, "I'm _looking_ at it. Do you think I can't recognize my own sister? Look at the bloody thing and tell me it's not you."

"Fine," she snapped. Ginny spun around and found Ron staring at the wall off to the far side of the door they'd entered through. In front of him was a large portrait which extended from the floor well past Ron's head. She didn't need to look at it. The idea itself was absurd. She began responding immediately: "Ron, listen to me. It's not—"

Ginny froze. It had taken a moment for her to actually see the full painting, but once she had, speaking became impossible. There were no words which could describe how she felt. There was no explanation. She simply couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"No, no..." she murmured, walking closer to the portrait. "It's not possible. It's a trick... some sort of charm. It has to be."

Ron reached toward the flame-red hair of the portrait and rubbed some of it off on his fingers. "Well, if it is, it's brilliant. It looks as real as anything else here."

Despite her protests, she couldn't ignore the truth of it. The portrait _was_ her. The nose, the shape of her lips, the freckles were all the same. Even the way her red hair curled under her chin when she didn't remember to straighten it. The only difference was in the eyes. Ginny's were a soft, gently brown, but the eyes in the portrait were every bit as red as the woman's hair.

"He did this," Ginny said. "The cloaked wizard did this. He knew we'd find it."

"He couldn't have," replied Ron. "The door was sealed. It doesn't seem like the sort of thing you make a spare key for." They all paused to think about what Ron had said. Simultaneously, they realized the one thing they hadn't yet noticed.

"There were no other corridors or doorways," Josef said aloud, putting a voice to everyone's thoughts. "If he came in before us, he'd have to go through that door, but it was locked, just like the one in the larger hall."

"In my dream, the door was already open," Harry said. "What if he came in and closed the door behind him?"

"What if he never came in?" Josef shot back.

"He must have," Harry said, "Where else would he be?" As he asked, he turned toward Hermione who had been silent for some time. When Ginny looked as well, she could see that her friend was in pain. Her eyes were shut and she was clutching her left elbow so tightly that her nails were digging into her skin.

"Where is he, Hermione?" he asked.

"He's close," she said through gritted teeth as Ron rushed to her side.

"How close?"

"Very close," a new voice announced.

From the corner of her eye, Ginny caught the shape of a cloaked man walking into the room from the door she had unlocked a few minutes earlier. There was no question in her mind just who it was. Harry and Josef knew it as well. They raised their wands with all the trained precision Ginny had come to expect of Brotherhood members.

The cloaked wizard raised a hand against them. It pulsed with a sickly green light and fear gripped at Ginny. She dashed forward in an attempt to put herself between him and his targets, but there was no time. Just as Josef began to flick his wand, a wave of light burst from the cloaked wizard's hand and struck Josef in the chest. Ginny heard herself screaming, as if she were watching from overhead. She saw Josef's body falling backward and barely had time to worry about him before the cloaked wizard had turned on Harry. He cast no spells and said no incantations. He simply stared at Harry. The emerald fires in his eyes blazed and Harry dropped to his knees, gasping in pain and pressing his hands against his scar. Behind him, Ron stepped up with his wand at the ready.

The cloaked wizard simply stared back at him. "That would be unwise, Ron," he said. The threat was subtle and effective.

While Harry still writhed on the stone floor, the cloaked wizard turned his gaze to Ginny, sending waves of fear and hatred through her. "A witch without her wand," he growled. "How unfortunate for your friends." He turned away and began walking toward Ron and Hermione. Ginny rushed forward in an attempt to block his approach, but he shoved her to the ground. From the stone floor, she could see that his face was pale and the front of his cloak was drenched with blood from the deep cut in his neck.

"No more interference," he told her. "You refuse to learn. I told you what I wanted, but you still have not brought it to me. I hoped it would not come to this. I knew you were deceitful and selfish, but I did not expect you would find it so easy to let your friends take the punishment for your actions."

His eyes traveled down her body, stopping when they reached a gap in her cloak which revealed the white nightgown underneath it. "I see you had no problem wiping Justinian's blood from your clothes," he said. "I wonder, though, how easy will it be to wipe the memory of it from your mind? He died for no reason. They all died for no reason: Grigore, your brother, Miraphora, Simon. But that is just the beginning. We cannot even count the thousands of people who have died over the years. You may refuse to see it, but their blood is still on your hands."

"No, you were the one who killed those people," Ginny replied.

"And you are the one who created me. It's your fault," he said, pointing at the portrait on the wall. "Open your eyes, Ginny. How can you continue to deny it? How many more people will you kill before you accept responsibility for your actions?"

"It was _your_ actions that killed them, not me and not her. I haven't killed anyone and I won't kill anyone. I'm not her," Ginny insisted, yet again.

"Then prove to me that you and her are so different," he said in a commanding tone. "Where is the Jewel, Ginny?"

She could feel his malice streaming toward her, but she held her ground. Harry said they needed to stall him, and she was the only one left who could do that. "I'll never give it to you," she replied

"No, you cannot," he replied, "because you do not have it. You do know where it is, though. Tell me where it is and prove that you are not the vile creature I know you to be. This is your last chance to repent, Ginny. It was your crime which brought us all here. This is your last chance, Ginny. Do as I ask, and I promise you will remain alive."

"And my friends?" she asked.

"That is their choice. They have their own crimes to atone for, but that is no concern of yours. Now, tell me where the Jewel is, or I will find someone more willing to aid me."

Ginny felt her heart pounding, but she kept her composure. "I have nothing to apologize for," she said, managing to hide most of the unsteadiness in her voice. "I won't help you and I'll never betray my friends."

"We shall see," he hissed. His eyes flared as they found Hermione standing nearby. "Miss Granger," he growled, "what a tragic fate you have been given. You had everything: youth, intelligence, opportunity, friends, family, influence, beauty and even love. Now, all of that is slowly being stolen from you. It _hurts_ does it not? When you first felt it, you thought you could fight it. You thought you could control it. Then, slowly, it began to rip you apart and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Tell me, how long has it been since you began to wish that you would simply die rather than endure another day of it?"

Hermione said nothing, but a single tear trickled down her cheek, betraying the thoughts she had tried so hard to keep hidden.

"It is torture, I know," he said softly. "It hurts. It tears at you from the inside. It corrupts and poisons you until you cannot even recognize which thoughts are your own. I was the one who did this to you," he admitted, "but it was not out of malice. I did this because I knew that you would understand. You, of everyone here, would be able to see the full story. I knew you would help me. You would not let emotion replace reason. I knew you would see that it is the right thing to do. You have done well, Hermione. You have suffered long enough."

He stepped closer and held out his hand to her. "Your service is almost over," he said. "All I ask is that you tell me where the Jewel is."

"No, I—" Hermione began to say even as she took a stumbling step toward him. Her eyes blinked and shifted about confusedly. "I can't— I don't—" she stammered incoherently.

"I will free you from this curse," he continued. "That I promise whether you help me or not. However, if you tell me where it is, I will give you the one thing you have desired above all others since you first felt my touch. You do not need to speak it. All you need to do is take my hand."

"You stay away from her!" Ron shouted. He stepped forward, putting himself in front of Hermione. "She doesn't want anything from you."

"Of course she does," the cloaked wizard said in light tone. "I have been listening to her dreams and I am the only one who can give her what she wants. All I ask in return is one simple answer."

"I— can't—" she whispered.

"You _will_," he commanded. "Take my hand, Hermione. Tell me where the Jewel is. _Now._"

Slowly, Hermione took a step toward the wizard. It was clumsy and somewhat forced, yet deliberate. After it, she took another with the same slow, mechanical gait.

"Stop," Ron called out, clutching at Hermione's sleeve. "Fight him. Think about what you're doing."

"She knows exactly what she is doing, Ron. She is fulfilling her curiosity," the cloaked wizard said as Hermione reached out toward his hand. "To her, I am the greatest mystery she has ever encountered. Her world is one of answers and reasons, but there was always one question which could not even be asked. It was too close, too primal. Then the answer stepped out of the shadows and found her and now, even as her mind begs for death, she wants only one last thing: She needs to understand where it all came from. She wants to know why it happened, why she is different, why all of you are. She looks at me, and she knows that I know the answers to the only mystery that is keeping her in this world."

"No! You're a liar!" Ron shouted, stepping in front of Hermione even as her hand slipped into the cloaked wizard's. "Don't listen to him, Hermione!" he begged. "He's using you. He'll never tell you. That's what he does. He betrays everyone. He'll do the same to—"

Ginny heard a dull _crack_ and Ron bellowed in pain as he dropped to the ground, his hands reaching down toward his thigh. Her throat tightened at the sight of him in agony, but there was nothing she could do. She had no wand and the cloaked wizard's eyes were locked firmly on Hermione. Their hands clasped together, he pulled her closer to him and reached up to the pale, streaked skin which covered half her face. Hermione didn't fight him, she just closed her eyes and stopped breathing. The cloaked wizard pressed his hand against her cheek and his eyes blazed with brilliant green light.

"That's enough!" Harry shouted from the ground some distance away. "Let go of her."

"Is that what you really want?" the cloaked wizard asked. "Perhaps you want her to die. It would make it easier for Ginny to forget what the two of you shared if she did not have to look into her eyes every day. If Hermione were gone, Ginny would not have to think about how you betrayed her, lied to her, used her. You would not have to worry that someday she might find out just how little it took to have the two of you tearing off your clothes in her own brothers' shop."

As he spoke, the dark veins which stretched up Hermione's arm began to fade. The skin where they receded began to regain its color, while the skin around the wizard's hand seemed to darken. The longer he held her, the faster the curse seemed to drain out of her and back into him.

"Now, you see that I have fulfilled my promise," he told her in a quiet voice. "Whatever it is that I am now, I have retained my honesty, unlike the rest of your friends. I honor my deals. Tell me where the Jewel is and I will give you the answers you seek."

"No, Hermione, don't!" Ron cried out from her feet.

Hermione wasn't listening to him. She didn't seem to notice any of them. Her eyes were open now, but they looked only at the glowing green eyes in front of them. "We don't have it," she said, earning another protest from Ron. "It is close. It is here. We didn't know you were following us. We thought you had already found it."

The cloaked wizard's face broke into a wide smile as emerald flames danced in his eyes. "I would not want to prove you wrong, would I?" he asked with a bitter laugh. "In time, yes, in time I will see that your guess becomes truth, but first, I owe you your payment."

He lunged forward, pulling his hand from hers so he could press both of his into the sides of her head, forcing her to stare into his eyes. "You wish to know what I am?" he asked. Plumes of black vapor burst out from under his cloak and his eyes became blindingly bright. Hermione struggled against him, but she was far too weak to do anything more than amuse him in her attempts.

"This is what I am," he snarled, pulling her face closer to his. Green light streamed from his eyes to her as she tried to twist away from him. "This is what you wanted to know. Is it everything you hoped it would be? Do you see what she has done to me? Do you understand now why I cannot let it happen again?"

Just as suddenly as it began, it ended and the cloaked wizard let go of her, letting her drop to the ground. He looked down at her with disgust. "Do you understand now?"

Hermione made no response. She simply pressed her hands against her eyes and cried.

The cloaked wizard reached down to tug her hands away, shouting, "_Do you understand?_" Hermione nodded weakly, shivering in shock and terror. He stood up and began walking away. "The choice is yours, now, Miss Granger. You understand what is at stake. You must choose what is most important to you. I would say that I would be interested in seeing just what that choice will be, but I think we both know that you have already made it." Without looking back, he continued toward the far doorway and slipped into the darkness beyond it.

Ginny rushed forward only to stop abruptly. All of her friends were lying on the ground in pain. Only she was standing. She knew it wasn't true, but she couldn't help but hear the cloaked wizard's words: _It's your fault._ Her fear rose up to choke her. She knew he wouldn't stop. He would keep killing people and it would get harder to convince herself that it really wasn't her fault. Justinian had sacrificed his life, but for what? He was convinced Ginny could save everyone else. Perhaps he was right. Maybe she could. Ginny found no hope in that thought. If it was true, then it had been true for some time and Justinian hadn't needed to die at all.

"Ginny?" a weak voice called out. "Ginny? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

She blinked her eyes and found Josef looking up at her from the stone floor. He was alive. His motions were sluggish, but he didn't seem to be badly injured. He pushed himself onto his feet and began making his way to her.

Fresh cries caught Ginny's attention. Hermione was still on the floor, shaking uncontrollably as she rocked back and forth, clawing at her eyes. Ron was already at her side and Harry was slowly crawling toward her. Ginny tried to run to her, but Josef intercepted her, holding her back until she convinced him that she hadn't been hurt.

They huddled around Hermione, the only one of them who still hadn't recovered from the ordeal. She appeared to be struggling against some unseen force and nothing that Ron said to her was able to help her break free. Josef and Harry joined him, holding Hermione while her tremors became more violent. Feeling useless, Ginny simply stood nearby. In an effort to try and comfort her friend, she called out to her in a reassuring voice. She was not prepared for the effect it would have.

Hermione's body tightened as a horrific scream burst out of her chest. It had a disturbing, unnatural sound, filled with fury and pain. Again and again she screamed, loud enough that the sound of it began to make Ginny's ears ache. Hermione began to thrash about wildly, striking the stone floor with her arms, legs and occasionally her head. Gradually, the volume of her screams decreased, though her condition didn't improve. Still struggling, her eyes were shut tight and her mouth was opened wide. Her face became deathly pale and, slowly, Ginny began to notice her lips turning a pale blue.

"She's not breathing!" Ron shouted.

"I know that," Harry yelled back, as he tried to keep a hold on her shoulders and protect her head.

After failing to control her legs and getting kicked twice in the attempt, Josef stood up and bent down over her chest, holding her head firmly between his hands. "_Hermione!_" he shouted, "_Wake up!_"

To everyone's surprise, her eyes blinked open and she stared at Josef as she took a long, rasping breath, then let out another horrified scream as she fought to tear herself away from him.

"Hermione, it's us!" Ron shouted as he dove after her, forgetting about his broken leg. Harry was at his side immediately.

"We're here," Harry said, trying to reassure her. "You're alright. You're safe... for now."

"No, it's not— It's a lie, it—" she stammered in a panicked voice. "I saw you— You're not— Where is this? Am I dead? Are we all dead? I thought—" Her eyes suddenly found Ginny. "Why is she here?" she whispered. Her chest began rising and falling quickly and she turned to stare into Ron's eyes. "She's here. It's her. The one from the wall. Why is she here? She's not supposed to be here. She's not dead. She's not supposed to be here."

"It's Ginny," Ron said slowly. "We're not dead. We're all fine. We all came here together, remember?"

"She's here... She's here," Hermione repeated quietly. "No... no... not again. I don't want to see it again. I've had enough. No more."

Ron reached out for her hand and placed it in his. Her breathing slowed down and her eyes began to focus on the people around her. "We're all here, Hermione," Ron said. "You're going to be alright."

"No, no I'm not," she said, pressing her palms against her temples. "I want to forget. It's in my head and I can't get it out."

"What's in your head?" Harry asked. "What do you want to forget?"

"I needed to know," she began softly. "I knew I was going to die. I just wanted to know why. I wanted to know why it chose me. I needed to know what sort of thing it was, and—" she paused to breathe, "—and it showed me."

"What did you see?"

"Everything," she answered in a wavering tone. "I saw everything. A thousand lifetimes... of pain and anger... of nothing. I saw what he's done... all the people... the destruction... it's—" She stopped abruptly and stared up at Harry with a terrified expression. "I saw how it began. I saw what—" She paused again and began breathing frantically. "You're in danger," she told him. "I know what happened. I saw—"

"You saw how it started?" Harry asked. "You know what he is?" Hermione nodded shakily. Her face was still pale and her lips trembled as if fighting back the words to describe the horrors she'd seen. Harry continued in a gentle voice. "This is where it started, isn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered. "He... was the one who drew on the walls. It was all he could do. He couldn't get out. He was alone except for— for the snakes," she said, looking at the small holes scattered around the edges of the floor. "This place, it's filled with his anger. It's cursed. So is he. We're all cursed. He'll kill us all, all of us except—"

"Can you still feel him?" Harry interrupted before she could finish. It didn't really matter. Ginny already knew whose name Hermione was about to say.

"No," Hermione answered after a moment of thought, "but he's still here. There is no other way out. He has to come back through this chamber."

"Do you know how to stop him?" Harry asked.

Upon hearing the question, Hermione froze and stared back at him. "I— It's not—" she stammered for a moment, finally answering, "No. No, you can't stop him. You mustn't. You don't understand—"

"We have to stop him," Harry insisted. "If you know how, you need to tell us."

Hermione just stared back at him as tears streamed from her eyes. "You would be killing everyone you're trying to save. Is it really worth that?" she asked. "Would you destroy the world to save it?"

"If it would make a better world," he replied heavily.

"And why do you get to make that choice?" she asked in response. Trembling as she approached him, she spoke in a voice laced with anger and fear. "You have no right, Harry. Just because you stopped Voldemort doesn't mean that you get to speak for the entire wizarding world. You don't have any idea what you're doing. You don't understand—"

"Then explain it to me," he shot back. "Tell me what we're facing? What are you afraid of?"

Hermione didn't respond right away. By her expression, Ginny could tell that she wanted to answer, but something was holding her back. Ginny spun around, expecting to find the cloaked wizard watching them, but the doorway behind her was dark and empty. It was something else. Hermione was looking at Ginny with pity. Before Ginny could ask her why, her gaze slid over to Ron, then Josef, and finally onto Harry.

"I— I can't," she said. "I wish I could tell you— I wish I could trust... but I can't, Harry. I— You don't know what you're asking me to do. No one could— If I told you, it would—" She buried her face in her hands and began breathing deeply as though she were trying to keep herself calm. When she looked up, her expression was blank and her eyes were hollow. "You can't stop him. You don't even know what that would mean. It's unfathomable."

"So is giving up," he told her. "We didn't come all this way to decide it wasn't possible and just walk away. We have to try."

"Yes, you're right. You'll try," she replied, "and you will fail. You can't stop him." As she spoke, her eyes drifted over toward Ginny. A chill ran up her spine.

"Then why did he let us find this place?" Harry continued. "Why has he been so wary around us? There must be something he fears. If there was nothing, why wouldn't he have killed us just now?"

"Because he doesn't want that. You're in danger," Hermione announced, "but he won't kill you."

"I agree with Harry," said Josef, finally speaking up. "Antonin and the Priest brought us here for a reason and the cloaked wizard seems to know what that is. That is what he fears. We need to find out what it is."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Harry asked them all. "We don't have much time. It won't take long before the cloaked wizard figures out that the Jewel was already removed. He's going to come looking for us."

"Then we better move quickly," commented Josef.

"Just where are we going?"

"To the place where all the answers are," he answered.

With Harry supporting Ron and Ginny following close behind, Josef led them all back to the smaller chamber filled with artifacts. Clearly, the idea was that there had to be something there that could help them figure out what to do. Hermione trailed behind them with a strange expression on her face. She kept pausing to look behind her but she never stopped following them. Before they reached the antechamber, Josef noticed Ginny checking on her, and asked if something was wrong.

"No, he's right," she answered softly. "This is where we're supposed to go. He's waiting for us."

The door to the antechamber was just ahead of them. Hearing Hermione's response, Josef glared at her with confusion. "How is that— You said there was no other way out."

"There isn't," Hermione said flatly. "I wasn't talking about the cloaked wizard."

After a quick glance at Ginny and Harry, Josef pulled his wand from his pocket and strode toward the door. Harry tried to stop him, but he couldn't without dropping Ron. Ginny ran after him instead, once again feeling the stinging loss of her wand. Despite his lead, Ginny slipped past Ron and Harry and caught up to Josef just as he reached the doorway. Just past the threshold he came to a halt and Ginny nearly crashed into him. She recovered quickly and attempted to slip around him to put herself between him and whatever danger awaited them.

"To be quite honest, I have always believed that if I was to die at the end of a wand, it would be your wand," a voice announced. For a moment, Ginny had thought it was the cloaked wizard, but there was something about the hunched shape that didn't fit. It was clearly a man and he was bent over the large table in the center of the room as though he were examining something. His hooded cloak hung loosely from his body, hiding his face completely, but it wasn't dark enough or nearly worn enough. Instead, it seemed to be made of a coarsely woven grey fabric. It felt familiar and it took her a moment to place the memory of it: They looked very much like the cloak Antonin had been wearing when he was waiting for them in Giza.

"Albert?" Ginny called out. "Is that you?"

The man looked up and frowned. Ginny suddenly recognized him as the old man they had met in the Great Library. "No, I am not Antonin," he said, "and he is not here with me. I do not know where he is and I don't suspect I will ever find him again. It is for the best, I suppose. He has already paid a high price. He has already given his life. I could never ask him for his death as well."

"But you didn't have problems asking that of Justinian," Josef replied. "Perhaps you didn't recognize his blood on the floor outside—"

"I did," the man replied in a serious tone. "We all knew what needed to happen. Justinian accepted his task with courage. He asked to do it. He simply wanted one moment with Ginny without needing to lie to her or pretend he was someone he wasn't. I do hope he got that opportunity."

"He did," Ginny said softly.

"Was that his only moment of honesty?" Josef asked. "He told us that you would be bringing something with you, something we've been trying to find for some time. Was that the truth as well?"

The old man nodded. "It was."

"Then hand it over —quickly."

For a moment, the old man stood completely still staring at Josef as if he were waiting for some further question or demand. After getting nothing, he stood up straight and nodded as if making a decision. "I will not give it to you," he announced clearly.

"The time for games and tests is over, Priest," Josef said in a strained voice. "We don't have time for this anymore. The cloaked wizard is here. If the Jewel can protect us or help us stop him, then we need it."

"The time is not yet right," said the old man. "There are only two of you. Where is Harry?"

"I'm right here," Harry announced as he stepped into the room with Ron leaning on him heavily.

"Ah, I see," the old man said. "And what of the fifth one? Hermione? Where is she?" Even as he spoke, a small shape emerged from the shadows of the corridor. Hermione stepped into the room and stared intensely at the old man, saying nothing at all. He returned her gaze. "She has been cured," he commented. "That is... unexpected."

Harry's lips tightened. "She was attacked. He used her to find the chamber and then he took his power back and... did something to her memory."

The old man was suddenly alert. "What did he do? He removed her memory?"

"No, he gave me— I saw it all," Hermione whispered. "I saw what happened to him and where—" Her voice trailed off and she began looking around in confusion.

"He showed you his memory?" the old man asked, a curious expression on his face. "He showed you everything?" Hermione's eyes remained locked on the old man as she nodded slowly. Slowly, Ginny could see his concern growing. "You know what happened to him, then?" he asked. "You understand what he is, what's at stake?" Hermione nodded again and the old man's expression became even more grave. "Did you see how it began? Did you see what they did to him?"

Suddenly, Hermione's gaze was broken. She looked confused, uncertain. Her eyes darted about the room, staring at the walls as if there was nothing there. Once her mouth opened to speak, it took her a moment before she managed to actually form words. "I— No," she said haltingly. "No, I can only— He was here, and she—" she paused, glancing at Ginny for an instant before turning away quickly "—the Angel was here." Her chest began rising and falling quickly. "They were all here, but she was the one who—" Hermione gasped in pain and reached for her left hand.

"Do you know what happened before that?" he asked. "How did he get there?"

Hermione's eyes opened and blinked a few times. "No. There was nothing before that. He didn't— It doesn't start, but... it never ends."

For a moment, Ginny thought she saw the old man smiling. "Interesting," he said lightly, nodding and rubbing his chin. "A curious omission to be certain. It is almost as if he himself doesn't remember."

"Or he didn't want her to know how they stopped him before," Josef offered in explanation. "He's still afraid it could happen again. That means that we have a chance. He's here for the Jewel and you have it. Now hand it over quickly, before he realizes that it's been moved."

The old man "I am sorry. I cannot give it to you."

"You can't? Then perhaps you could explain why," he suggested sternly, gripping his wand tightly. "When you are finished, you might consider telling us why we should not take it from you by force."

The old man returned a stony gaze. "I beg you to lower your wand, Mr. Kuznetsov. I have no desire to keep the Jewel. I simply said that I could not give it to _you_."

"Why not?"

The old man extended a finger to point down at the table he had been leaning over. "Because you are not the one who is destined to hold it."

"What are you talking about," Harry asked, leaving Ron to lean against some shelves while he strode toward the table.

"You have seen the chamber, haven't you?" asked the old man. "You saw the carvings. One in particular, I suspect, was interesting to you. I believe you managed to find a rough copy." Ginny followed Harry forward to the table which had been empty when they had walked through the room earlier. Looking down on it now, she found a thin tablet made of gleaming gold. Carved into it with sharp, precise lines was a replica of the carved symbols they had found in the main chamber. The old man was directing their attention to the lowest figure, the one they had identified as the Angel. His finger was pressed against the slender shape of her arm as it reached up to grasp the dark jewel above her.

When Ginny looked up, she found the old man staring at her. Silently, he retrieved a small bundle of rough fabric from his pocket. Carefully pulling at the edges, he opened the bundle to reveal two shards of the darkest crystal Ginny had ever seen. Peering at them a little closer, she could see that most of their edges were as sharp and clean as any jewel, but each had one face which was irregular and jagged. It was clear that they were two pieces of what had once been a single crystal. Put together, they would have been nearly twice as long as Ginny's hand, with two sharp points at either end.

"It is yours to take," the old man told her, "and yours alone."

Ginny felt nauseated. She backed away from the Jewel, hating it. "No, that's not me," she said again, pointing to the tablet. "It's a mistake. He just _thinks_ that I'm her. It's not true. "

"I admit, I was not always convinced, either," he said. "There were others we had considered. For centuries we knew the link to Slytherin was not a coincidence. He built the Chamber of Secrets for a reason. That was clear, though we had no idea what it was. The location, however, seemed easier to understand. The young woman we were looking for would be found in Britain, almost certainly attending the school which stood on top of the Chamber. However, they had no idea just _when_ she would be found. That has always been our one great weakness."

"Why? Why would you believe that it was anything more than a coincidence?" Ginny asked. "Was there some sort of Prophecy which said this had to happen?"

"A prophecy?" he replied as if considering the possibility for the first time. "I suppose it's not impossible. In fact, considering Harry was the subject of not one, but two prophecies, it seems almost likely that others might be centered around you. However, I can assure you that they did not cloud our judgment. I have never put much faith in them, myself."

"Then how could you be so sure? What if you've missed something?" she asked.

"Those who came before me debated that point quite frequently," the old man said. "At the time, Slytherin's line had dwindled to a handful of families who bickered amongst themselves, hoarding the last treasure's they could find from their famous ancestor. None of them knew about the Chamber. None of them put any interest in anything but themselves. They could never be the thing we feared. They were rotten and corrupt to the core. They sickened and died off until only one family remained. Then, Tom Riddle was born.

"My mentor had died just a year earlier. I was alone and uncertain, and suddenly, the Slytherin line had woken up again. Tom was the child of a witch and a Muggle man, the product of selfish romance, filled with his father's hatred and his mother's desperation. All the signs were there. I became convinced that Voldemort would become the cloaked wizard and begin searching for the Angel again. I found an assistant, Antonin, and together, we began searching for you."

"I wasn't even born yet," Ginny replied. "How could you search for me?"

The old man nodded slowly. "As I said, we didn't know just when we would find you. We investigated every single red-haired witch who ever set foot inside Hogwarts. Most could be dismissed fairly easily. Others, were watched for some time. Your mother, Molly, was one of those. Of course, it was only a matter of time before we discarded her, as well."

"How did you know it wasn't her?"

"Because of your father," the man answered. "He is a good man —predictably and universally good— and she was intensely loyal to him. After a number of years, we still had not found anything to prove she was the one we were looking for. About the time we gave up on her, another more interesting prospect showed up, a young girl at Hogwarts, strong willed and magically talented. Before long, I was quite convinced that young Miss Evans was the witch we had been searching for."

"Evans?" Harry called out. "Lily Evans?"

"Yes, Harry," replied the old man. "Your mother. I was absolutely convinced that she was the one. Antonin disagreed with me, but even he couldn't ignore the signs. She was Muggle-born. She had green eyes. I was certain it would only be a matter of time until Voldemort recognized her as the Angel. I prepared to move forward, but he was slow to respond, even after he began to take notice of her. Slowly, things began to fall apart.

"We already knew Peter Pettigrew to be a traitor by any sense of the word, but where did James and Sirius fit in? James was not the nicest of boys, but his faults were only superficial. Of the two, Sirius was the one who truly struggled to balance good and evil. He was the one without a family. He fit the pattern, yet it was James whom Lily loved and married. I continued to believe that I had found the Angel, but Antonin's doubts grew."

The old man took a deep breath and looked up at Harry. "When he told me about Voldemort's plan to kill you, I thought it supported my conclusion. I wanted to tell Lily what she was a part of, but Antonin stopped me. He warned me about interfering. Lily knew nothing about the Gates or the Jewel. If I had told her about them, she wouldn't understand the importance and she might have told Voldemort in an attempt to protect her son. We both knew that if Lily truly was the one we had waited for, Voldemort would not be able to kill her. So we did nothing. We waited and we watched."

"You _knew_ he was coming to attack them?" Harry growled, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. "You knew he was going to kill them and you did nothing?"

"Understand, Harry," the old man began, "if we hadn't the situation would have been much worse."

Harry gasped. "Are you trying to say that murdering my parents was a good thing?"

"Of course not. It was a tragedy and a horrible crime. The world was not a better place because your parents were murdered, but your parents were murdered and the magical world was safer after it happened. Your parents were outstandingly _good_ people. I always knew that she was devoted and loving, and she proved her bravery by trading her life for yours.

"In that instant, I have no doubt that she was thinking only of you, but the consequences of that action were more widespread than anyone could imagine. Voldemort fled, weakened to the brink of death, buying Antonin and I the time we needed to continue our search. But even more importantly, she left behind a warrior to continue the fight, a young boy filled with his mother's love and the hatred of an ancient evil. Suddenly, Antonin, who had insisted that Lily was unimportant for years, was convinced that we had finally found one of the pieces to the puzzle. He began preparing the way, even before we took notice of Molly and Arthur Weasley's newest addition to their family: a beautiful little girl with bright red hair."

"Is that what you think we are?" Harry growled. "You picked us because we fit some stupid pattern you thought up after staring at a carving in a cave wall for a few years? How many times have you people gotten it wrong? You don't even know if it means anything? How many people have died because you managed to convince yourselves that some lines on the wall are a prophecy?"

"This," the man said, pointing at the golden tablet, "is not a prophecy. It isn't the future, it's the past. It's already happened, but it's going to happen again. Magic connects us all, Harry. We come and go, but magic is always here. The cloaked wizard was stopped before and nature is trying to see that he's stopped again."

"Why us?" Harry asked. "How can you be sure?"

"You're here," the old man said with a smile.

"Because you led us here," Harry shot back.

"That doesn't matter anymore," he said. "You are here. So is he, and he believes that you are the ones who are going to stop him."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "And now we're the only people who can."

"Isn't that enough?" the old man replied. "You saw the portrait, didn't you?" he asked, turning to look at Ginny. "Can you deny it? In your heart, can you say that you believe that it is just a coincidence? Do you still refuse to see the truth? He chose you. He made you what you are."

"What did I do?" she asked weakly. "Why is this happening to me?"

"We do not make our own fates. They are made by our friends and enemies. This is your fate now," he said, tapping the tablet. "You are the Angel. A guide and protector brought you here," he added, pointing out the solitary figure between the two circles on the tablet. "With you are the Knight, the Traitor and the—"

"—the Demon," Harry finished. "Is that what you think I am? An evil creature trapped inside this body?"

"It is only a word, Harry. Do not give it more power than it deserves," the old man cautioned him. "You do have evil inside you. You are the Abomination, an unintentional mixing of good and evil. You have defied death twice. You are the only one who has ever managed to stand between him and the only thing he wants. That alone is enough to earn his hatred. Now that he has found this place, he has no more reason to restrain his fury. You must stop him here because if you don't he will never stop hunting you."

"You said he couldn't be destroyed. How are we supposed to stop him?"

"The Jewel is the only way to stop him permanently. It was made to capture him and it was said that it was frighteningly effective at it. It proved to be less capable of holding him. We would have to send him back through the Gate. The Gates were created by the Jewel and it is the only thing capable of sealing the last of them. Unfortunately, in its current state, it is all but useless."

Harry's eyes fell to the shards of the Jewel sitting on the table. "How do we repair it?"

"I don't know. No one does," the old man answered plainly. "Dozens of incredibly powerful wizards have tried. They have all failed. Feel free to try if you like, but I suspect the cloaked wizard himself is the only one powerful enough to join the two pieces together."

Ron let out a groan. "That's brilliant. How are we supposed to convince him to do that? It would be like having someone break into your home and ask you to sharpen their knife."

"Maybe we don't have to convince him to repair it," Ginny said, staring down at the glittering edges of the Jewel. "Maybe he's planning on doing that himself. He has to know that he can't close the last Gate. He didn't even try when he saw it a few minutes ago. I think he wants to repair the Jewel so he can seal the Gate forever."

"So, we give him the Jewel and let him fix it. Then, before he can seal the Gate, we distract him..." Ron said, his voice trailing off with doubt. "How are we supposed to distract him from ending our only chance of ever destroying him?"

"Give him the one thing he wants more than life itself," the old man suggested. Slowly his eyes turned and stared directly into Ginny's.

An icy wave washed over her body and she felt her joints lock. In an instant, she knew that the man was right. It would work. That was the way it was always meant to work. If the Jewel was as powerful as he said, then the cloaked wizard wouldn't have long to punish her for what she had done. If she was lucky, he might even kill her. Even if he didn't, wasn't it worth it? She remembered the look on Justinian's face as he gave his life just to give her the chance to do this one thing. She was just one person. Even if she was saving only two people the torture that Mira had endured —and possibly still endured— then she could not refuse.

"I'll do it," Ginny said in a flat, emotionless voice.

"_No,_" Harry replied authoritatively.

"It's the only way, Harry," she argued. "He'll kill anyone else."

"Then we'll find another way," he shot back. "He was trapped in that chamber for thousands of years, wasn't he? We'll just trap him in there again. At the very least we would have time to come up with a plan that doesn't hand Ginny to the most evil creature the world has ever seen."

"Hold on," Ron interrupted. "Can we do that? Can we just lock him in the chamber?"

"You cannot lock your fears in the closet," warned the old man. "Sooner or later, they will escape. You must understand this."

"It wouldn't need to last forever," Ron replied. "Harry's right. It only has to buy us some time. If we lock the door right now—"

"—If you lock the door now, he will know what you plan to do," the old man interrupted. "Only the walls of the chamber can hold him. There are two doors and only one key. If you wish to trap him there, you will need to close both doors while he is inside and that can't be done without trapping someone on the far side. There is no exit on that side, but in time I'm certain that we would be able to recover their body."

Josef frowned and began pacing about the small room. Harry slumped over the golden tablet, staring at the deep gouges which were supposed to represent him. "There could be another way," Ron said. "We still have wands. Well, most of us do. We could close one door from the doorway of the other. If we catch him unprepared, we can have both doors locked before he knows what's happening."

Josef waved his hand dismissively. "He won't do it. He's too clever. He's not going to walk into a trap like that.

"He has to," Ginny said. "We've got the Jewel and he's bleeding. If his body dies, he won't get another chance until tomorrow morning."

Josef shook his head. "The Jewel is useless to us. He already knows that. He's going to expect a trap."

"Do you have a better plan?" snapped Harry.

Josef's jaw tightened. "It's not going to work, Harry."

"We've got to try," Harry said. "He could already be coming back. We don't have time to talk about this."

A faint voice floated from the far side of the room: "There's still time," Hermione whispered. "It's a good plan, Harry. Good luck."

Ginny found this to be a strange response and she wasn't the only one. While Harry asked the old man just how they would lock the doors, Josef was watching Hermione with curiosity. She was looking back at him, but her face was totally expressionless again. Ginny tried to ask her about it, but Hermione just buried her face in her hands and refused to speak.

Moments later, Ginny was forced to stand up and follow Harry and Josef as they began walking toward the door. Ron, Hermione and the old man remained in the antechamber despite Ron's attempt to follow them and the old man's refusal to help them in any way. As they stepped through the door, Ron limped after them, stopping a few feet into the corridor.

"I'll be right here," he called out. "Just yell if you need help."

"It won't due much good if you can't walk," Harry replied. "See if Hermione can fix up that leg. I know there's no time to do it right, but we just might need you." Ron nodded and began hobbling back into the room.

The walk to the main chamber was tense. As they approached the door, they saw that it was still open. Ginny's heart began to pound in her chest and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her skin. If he was waiting for them, the best they could hope to do was lock the near doors and run for their lives. It would be a futile action and though it was obvious that they were all thinking it, none of them was willing to speak it aloud.

They stood together, just around the corner from the open doors as if waiting for some signal to move forward. Josef and Harry were both gripping their wands tightly. Harry's was pointed at the doorway while Josef had picked the stone ceiling as his target. Ginny, of course, had no wand and until this moment, hadn't thought to ask for Hermione's. It looked doubtful that Hermione would need it and even less likely that she'd actually use it. Feeling increasingly useless by the moment, Ginny gathered up what remained of her courage and stepped forward.

"It should be me," she whispered. "He won't kill me on sight."

Harry and Josef were quick to disagree with her logic and they both leaped forward to stop her. After a brief standoff, Josef took the lead, giving Harry a gesture to stay back with Ginny. He approached the door without any sign of fear or hesitation. As the flickering light of the torches struck him, he raised his wand to point into the center of the room.

A moment of agonizing silence passed, then he slowly lowered his wand. After giving Harry and Ginny a quick nod he disappeared into the room. Ginny followed close behind Harry and felt only a small pinch of fear as she stepped into the chamber again. She couldn't help but turn and glance at the large portrait. Her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the walls. There were a number of other paintings and carvings, some of them looking quite violent. She began to understand. Before being trapped behind the Veils, the cloaked wizard had been imprisoned in the chamber. She could still feel his rage as though it was still dripping from the walls. As much as she despised him, it was hard to imagine what it could have been like to be trapped in that chamber.

"_Ginny!_" Harry called out. "The key! Hurry!" He was already at the other door and motioning for Ginny to follow him.

Josef hung back as she rushed to Harry's side. He was on the other side of the doorway, frantically brushing dust off the wall. As Ginny approached, she began to ask him what he was doing, but he ignored her and told her to keep an eye on the corridor. Ginny turned around and stared into the black depths while her heartbeat echoed in her ears. It was too dark to see anything at all. Was it too dark? What if the darkness was actually a cloud of oily black vapor billowing out of the cloaked wizard as his rage boiled.

"Er, Harry—" she began as her uncertainty deepened.

"Did you see something?" he asked, turning away from the wall.

"Well, no, but that's the part that's—"

"We don't have time for this, Ginny," he snapped as he returned to the wall. "Josef, if you're not busy, some help might be nice."

Josef's voice echoed from inside the chamber: "I'm busy, Harry."

Harry let out a sharp sigh. Ginny could tell that he was tense and impatient. "Whatever it is, it's not as important as this."

"I'm looking for something to wedge those doors," he shouted back, "unless you've got some idea you're not sharing with me."

Judging by Harry's lack of response, he didn't. Ginny looked back over her shoulder for a moment and found Harry running his hand across a large circle of darker stone. "I think I've found it," he announced. "Ginny, I need the key, _now._" Pulling the chain up over her head, she quickly handed the amulet to him and turned back to the corridor. Had it gotten darker? Or was she just imagining it? How far could she see before? Had the shadows shifted, or was it her paranoia?

"Harry—" she began weakly.

"Josef, any time now," Harry called out, ignoring her.

The sound of cracking wood cut through the air, followed a moment later as a pair of long splinters landed at Harry's feet. "Wedge those into the corners. They should hold long enough," Josef said. "Ginny, come out of there."

Ginny stared into the shadows swirling along the floor. "I think we might be out of time, Harry."

"_Ginny, it's time for you to leave, now!_" Josef snapped.

She hesitated for a moment and got a sharp look from Harry as he finished shoving the second splinter into the rough hinge of the stone doors. "Ginny, you have to go," he urged her. "You can't let him see you. He knows you're here. That's enough. Now, _go!_"

As she walked back into the chamber, she found Josef at the far side, standing in the other doorway. "Promise me you'll protect him," she said. "Sometimes he's so busy protecting everyone else that he forgets about himself."

Josef nodded quickly, then urged her to leave just as Harry had. "We know what we're doing. Everything is going to be alright, soon. Go back to the others. We'll see you there."

Ginny did as he said, pausing just long enough to find Harry. He was still at the other doorway, crouching down in front of the spot on the wall he had been searching for. He didn't know that she had stopped to look at him and she knew that if he did, it wouldn't have made him happy. She had to leave. That was her job now. Josef gave her a reassuring nod and turned back toward Harry, gripping his wand in his hand.

* * *

Harry pressed the amulet into the circular depression and felt a slight tremble in the ground. A moment later, the doors between him and the chamber shifted, grinding on their hinges as they began to close. His instincts told him to dash through, but he knew he couldn't. He had to be certain that the torch splinters would hold the doors open long enough to let the cloaked wizard enter. If they didn't, he would have to open the doors again and try something else.

To his relief, the doors came to a halt after moving only a few inches. The throbbing in his scar was stronger. Ginny hadn't needed to tell him the cloaked wizard was coming. The only question was just how fast he would get there. As he took one last opportunity to inspect his work, he spotted a sickly green glow coming from the far end of the corridor. The cloaked wizard had returned, and he was angry. Harry hoped that the cloaked wizard wouldn't know what he'd done until it was too late, Harry stepped through the door into the chamber again.

"Harry, toss me the key," Josef called out.

"I'm coming," he shouted back.

Josef glared at him. "No more risks, Harry. He's coming. He heard the doors shift," Josef said as he began closing one of the doors. "Throw me the key and toss one of the torches over by the door so we'll know when he's inside."

Not wanting to waste any more time arguing with Josef, Harry quickly tossed the amulet to Josef. The nearest torch was just a few feet away. Switching his wand to his left hand, he reached out for the torch and heard a voice cut through the stale air.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Suddenly, Harry felt his wand jump from his left hand. He spun around, realizing that the spell had come not from the door in front of him, but from the one behind him. He watched as his wand clattered to the floor not far from Josef's feet.

"Josef, what are you..." Harry's voice trailed off at the sight of Josef's icy stare. He began to flick his wand again.

"_Locomotor Mortis!_"

Harry felt his legs stiffen, frozen in place. Icy fear washed over him as he came to realize exactly what had happened. Josef said nothing. He just stood there watching Harry. For a second, he looked apologetic, but it disappeared almost immediately.

"Josef, what are you doing?" Harry growled.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he replied. "I wish it didn't have to end this way."

"It doesn't. This isn't like you," Harry said in an even tone. "He never let go of you, did he?" Josef didn't answer, but his eyes jumped to the door behind Harry and then back. Harry knew he didn't have much time. "You don't have to listen to him. You can fight him. I've done it."

"I know that, Harry," said Josef. "and that's the problem. You were the closest thing I'll ever have to a brother. This isn't easy for me. I'd like to free you, Harry. I want to trust you, but I can't."

Hearing Josef's words ignited his fury. His scar was burning. The cloaked wizard was very close. "Josef, let me go," he commanded. "You don't have to do this. We can end all of this. He was trapped here before. Once we seal the doors, we'll be safe."

"No," Josef replied softly, "we won't. This isn't about me or him, Harry. It's about _you._ All but one of the Gates have been destroyed. Voldemort is dead. Slytherin has no other heir. Valencia was the last of the Desmoda's. The Priest and everyone before him have done an excellent job of removing almost every single trace of the cloaked wizard. There is only one left."

Harry felt a wave of hot air flow into the chamber. There was no more time. He extended his arm toward his wand and focused all of his concentration on it.

"No," Josef barked, slashing his wand toward Harry. A second later, agony exploded in Harry's hand and he cried out as pain shot up his arm. "It is time to accept your fate, Harry. You knew this day would come. Grigore only allowed you to live because he hoped he might learn enough from you to help him finally destroy the Gates. You are an Abomination. You should have been dead long ago. Accept this and be happy that you have saved your friends lives."

"I thought you were one of them," Harry shot back, "but you're just like Grigore. In the end, you're just a coward. You meant to leave me behind, didn't you? That's why it took you so long with the torch. That's why you sent Ginny away so quickly. You knew she would never allow you to follow through with your plan."

"I sent her away out of mercy," Josef replied. "I knew she couldn't make this decision. No one should ever have to do what I have done, but I did it because someone had to. If you weren't so selfish, you would see that."

"Selfish?" roared Harry. "How could you—"

"He's coming, Harry," Josef shouted over him. "His body is dying. He will need a new one and you will be his only option. You said you can fight him. It's time to test that. If you ever truly loved her, then you will find a way to throw yourself into the void. That is the only way she will ever be safe or happy. Let her memories of you be pleasant ones. I promise that I'll never tell her or the others what you became."

"Josef, you have to—"

Heavy footsteps echoed in the chamber and a blast of hot air struck Harry's back. He didn't need to see the black vapor coiling around his feet to know what that meant. Josef slashed his wand toward the far door. The sound of cracking wood was followed quickly by stone grinding against stone. With another flick, the sound got louder for a moment, then ended in a thunderous _boom_ as the doors slammed shut.

A deep growl caught Harry's attention. He could feel the cloaked wizard's fury, much closer than he had expected. He turned slightly and saw the wizard's tattered hood and blazing green eyes as he spun around to find the other door. Harry looked back as well, finding Josef pushing the other door closed with all his strength. In that instant, Harry knew that there was nothing more for him to do. His head was beginning to swim from the heat and pain.

"Tell her I loved her," he called out.

Josef did not reply. A second later, Harry saw a dozen long tendrils of smoke shoot past him. The reached the door before Josef could push it closed, but they seemed unable to hold or even press against it. The gap between the doors narrowed even as a dark mass rushed past Harry. With the cloaked wizard only a few steps away, the doors came together and the crack between them sealed into a strip of solid stone.

The cloaked wizard reached the door a moment later and flattened his hand against the stone. It glowed with a brilliant green light and trembled, but held tight. Harry expected him to shout and roar and attack the door with all his might, but he didn't. He simply stood there, staring at the nearby portrait.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Harry extended his hand toward his wand again. His head throbbed, his throat was tight and dry, and his hand ached from what felt like a dozen fractures, but he no longer cared about any of that. He reached out, concentrating on his wand, begging it to jump to him. He had managed it before, though with much shorter distances. Slowly, he felt a calmness spreading through him. He had nothing else to lose. This moment was all that mattered. It was a liberating feeling. He extended his fingers and saw his wand shift a little.

The cloaked wizard finally turned away from the portrait and began pacing about the far side of the chamber, taking no notice of Harry beyond a quick glance to acknowledge that he was not alone. Harry poured all of his will into pulling his wand back to him and inch by inch, it was obeying. The cloaked wizard's pacing became more aggressive. Harry kept pulling his wand, always keeping an eye on his enemy and wondering how much longer he would wait before turning on Harry. Perhaps it wouldn't matter. Harry hadn't been able to fight him before. Why would he fear Harry now? Perhaps there was a reason. A plan flashed into Harry's mind. It wasn't much, but it was worth a try. Of course, it would be impossible without a wand.

Suddenly, the cloaked wizard stopped and Harry could almost feel his gaze. His wand wasn't far, now. He closed his eyes and strained with all his might. A sudden lightness filled his body and a second later, he felt the familiar texture of his wand pressing into his palm. His arm dropped immediately, tapping his legs just long enough to remove the hex, then swung sharply upward to point at his enemy.

The cloaked wizard wasted no time. He strode toward Harry, taking the shortest route he could. This was precisely what Harry had been hoping for. He knew he would have only one chance. As he passed close to empty black void in the center of the chamber, Harry gathered all his anger, strength, fear, and hope, and focused all of it for one last attack.

A crackling bolt of white light shot from the tip of Harry's wand. The cloaked wizard reacted immediately, pressing both of his hands outward as though bracing himself behind an invisible shield. He was not prepared for it to shoot past him and hit the large golden ring hovering around the last Gate. The ring began to glow with a bright red light and shuddered as tiny cracks crawled across its surface. The cracks widened and spread faster. Just as two of the larger fractures met, the room was filled with a flash of white light and a deafening metallic explosion.

Harry blinked his eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the dim light again. He had been knocked to the floor with the force of the blast and had he was having trouble regaining his balance. All he could see was darkness. Slowly, he saw a few flickering flames. The explosion had extinguished most of the torches, but a few still burned where they had been tossed against the walls. He blinked his eyes again. There was no sign of the cloaked wizard.

A feeling of unimaginable triumph filled him. He'd done it. He'd destroyed the cloaked wizard. He'd fallen into the Gate. Of course, it was possible that he might be able to escape, but even if he did, there was no where else for him to go. In the mean time, Harry was free. It was a momentary victory, though. He couldn't escape. Josef was probably already sealing the corridor. Still, it was better than he'd expected. At the very least, he could follow Valencia. He wouldn't have to suffer like Mira had. He stood up and looked into the large black sphere, and paused. It wasn't that much larger than it had been before. The Veils had always expanded when the arches were destroyed. Why was this one different?

"_Lumos!_" he shouted.

Before his wand could produce anything more than a flash of light, a powerful hand closed around his wrist, sending stabbing pain shooting up his arm.

"You will not be needing this anymore," a familiar voice growled as another hand reached out to pluck Harry's wand from his hand. With another swift motion, he tossed it across the chamber.

"Now you know what real betrayal feels like," he said as he began circling Harry. "You trusted him.

"I'm nothing like you!" Harry spat.

The cloaked wizard simply stared back at him. "We are more alike than you are willing to admit. That will change in time, I assure you." He walked away, then turned and began pacing back and forth in front of Harry.

"The last year has been... enlightening to me. There is so much that I have forgotten, and yet, there is so much more I wish I could forget. I have tried, of course. I thought that if I could simply stop remembering my past, that I could change myself and my future." He paused to gaze at Harry. "It does not work. No matter what I did, the past always found me. Our past lives inside us, Harry. It is impossible to deny it."

He turned to gaze at the portrait near the doorway. "I have spent years thinking of nothing but my past. It is easy to do when you are imprisoned in a tomb. I have pondered the injustice of life. I have made many decisions in my time, but never was I given a glimpse of what would happen. I never wanted this," he said firmly, turning back to Harry, "and yet, the decisions I made have brought me here. Tell me, Harry, do you believe that a single moment can permanently change our paths?"

"I believe we choose to be what we become," Harry shot back at him.

The cloaked wizard ignored him. "I cannot help but think that all of this is the result of my unwillingness to accept my fate. In truth, I cannot even claim that I actually chose to defy it. I never asked for anything except what others were granted without asking. Is this my punishment? Is it fair that I am tortured for something I never intended? Is it a crime to want to live? To want to make my own fate?"

He turned back to the portrait. "If all of this pain could be caused by a single choice, then perhaps it could be fixed by another. I have suffered for more years than anyone can count, Harry. I think that is long enough. It can finally end. It _must_ end. I cannot change my fate, but _she_ can," he said, pointing to the portrait.

"You can't have her," replied Harry.

"I will have her —willing or not— and I will not suffer you or anyone else to stand in my way," he said slowly, his voice as hard as the stone surrounding them. "I am not unreasonable, however. I am willing to make a compromise. I never wanted to kill you and I will kill you now. All I ask is that you stop fighting me."

"Why should I?"

"Because you have no desire to experience an eternity of pain?" the cloaked wizard answered flatly. "In truth, the offer is only symbolic, Harry. It is merely a test of loyalty. You cannot stop me. It is too late for that."

"No, it's too late for you. Look around you. It's over," Harry said defiantly. "It doesn't matter what you want or what you think you deserve. You're locked in and there's no way out. You can kill me, but it won't change that fact. Face it: you've lost."

The cloaked wizard let out a low rumble as he stepped toward Harry. "You think this is over?" he growled, releasing a stream of black vapor from his mouth. "I may not be able to break these walls, but there is still one thing more powerful than they are."

"This chamber has been here for thousands of years," Harry replied. "They will last for thousands more.

"You are wrong, Harry," the cloaked wizard hissed. His arm darted forward and Harry felt a hand close around his neck, gripping him so tight that the world began to dim. "Time cannot breach this tomb, but _love_ can."

Harry felt and unbearable heat flowing into him. It was too late to fight. His vision faded and the last thing he saw were two emerald green eyes glowing in the darkness.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

I know this chapter isn't what many readers wanted it to be. I could apologize, but it wouldn't be terribly honest. All I can say is to wait a few more days for the last chapter and make your judgments then. The very last chapter is already finished and sent off for editing. Expect it on Halloween. Until then, feel free to vent your frustrations (or enjoyment) towards me.


	22. The End of the Beginning

_

* * *

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**CHAPTER 22**

**The End of the Beginning**

* * *

Ginny stood in the small room waiting for something to happen. A number of deep, rumbling sounds had echoed down the corridor, but it was impossible to tell just what had caused them. Ron had been relieved to see her return, but when he saw that she was alone, his face fell.

"What's happening?" he asked. "Did it work?"

"I don't know," she replied flatly. "Harry and Josef sent me back. They were still working on it when I left."

"What about the cloaked wizard?" he continued. "Do they know where he is? What will they do if he doesn't fall for it?"

"I don't know, Ron," Ginny replied in a strained voice. "You can ask Harry when he gets back."

The room descended into a deep, tense silence. The old man was standing comfortably at the table, paging through a stack of books. In one hand, he was clutching a long bundle of fabric which could only be the broken shards of the Jewel of Darkness. He noticed her staring at it and returned a challenging glance. It felt as if he were trying to ask her if she wanted to take it from him.

A deep rumble shook the stone floor and it took all of Ginny's concentration to keep from crying out. Hermione, who was sitting on the floor with her back against a bookshelf, looked up at Ginny with a sympathetic expression. Slowly, a small tear formed at the corner of one of her eyes and began trickling down her pale cheek. Ginny felt her hope draining away. Before she could turn and run back down the corridor, she heard the sound of boots walking with a slow even pace.

Ron backed away from the door and raised his wand, but Ginny stood her ground. There was no point in running. If it was the cloaked wizard, then no amount of distance would save them. It was best to simply accept fate. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she saw a shadow moving toward the doorway. Her heart froze for a moment, then began beating again quickly.

It was Josef. As he walked toward the room, Ginny searched the corridor behind him, but found no sign of Harry. Josef's eyes met hers and his pace slowed.

"Where's Harry?" she asked.

Josef stopped in the doorway and returned a sympathetic expression. "It's done," he whispered as he handed the black stone talisman back to her. "We've got the time we need. We should seal the entrance for now. We can return if we ever find out how to fix or use the Jewel."

"You didn't answer my question," she said in a stronger voice.

"It's over, Ginny," replied Josef. "You're safe now."

"It's not over," Ginny replied, her heart pounding in her chest. "_Where is Harry?_"

Josef slumped against the wall, stared at her, and slowly shook his head. Fear wrapped an icy hand around her heart. Leaping to her feet, she turned toward Ron and Hermione, unable to speak. Ron was just as shocked, but Hermione had a look of mournful acceptance. More tears rolled down her cheek as she looked at Ginny and nodded slowly. Hermione had known this was going to happen.

"No," Ginny sobbed. "No, he wouldn't— He can't be—" It was getting hard to breathe. "It's not true!" she shouted. Her skin felt hot and cold and numb all at the same time. Everything hurt and yet none of it mattered. She stumbled toward Josef, her jaw clenched tightly to keep herself from crying out. "Where... is Harry?" she asked again.

Josef's eyes returned a look of care and concern. "Harry stayed behind," he explained softly. "He... wanted you to be safe. He wanted us all to be safe, but I know he did it to protect you. He did it so you could finally live your life and be happy."

She dropped her eyes to the floor in an attempt to hide her pain. "Did it... did it _take_ him?" she asked.

"I don't know," Josef replied. "I have to assume it did, but I—"

"You didn't see him die?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I tried to convince him to follow me. When he wouldn't, I tried to stay and fight with him, but he made me promise to leave and protect you."

Ginny's heart began pounding even harder. "If you didn't see him die, then he might still be alive." She pulled her hood over her head and began walking toward the dark corridor. Josef immediately stopped her and forced her to look up at him.

"It's over, Ginny," he said softly. "Harry wanted it to be this way. This is the way it has to be. I know you're in pain, and you're not thinking clearly."

"Was Harry?" she shot back. "Why didn't you stop him?"

Josef frowned. "You don't understand. He did this—"

"No, _you_ don't understand," she shouted. "This... _thing,_ it never wanted Harry. It wants _me._ _I'm_ the one it's after. Harry sacrificed himself so I wouldn't have to. I should be the one left behind!" she cried as she pulled away from him. "I'm the only one that can make it stop. We have to go back for him."

"No, you can't," he replied. "The door is sealed."

"I have a key," Ginny said, holding up the black stone talisman.

Josef froze. "You can't use it again, Ginny. Even if he's still alive, that thing is in there with him. If you open the door, it will escape. It will kill Harry, it will kill us, and then it will come for you and there will be no one to stop it. Harry knew that. He did this so you could live your life. You can't go back for him."

"He went back for you!" she shouted, tears burning her eyes. "We all did. He was willing to risk his life for you, even if all he could do was see that you had a proper death."

"Ginny," he said, reaching out to her again. "This is different."

"No, it's not," Ginny said as she spun away from him again and stumbled into the Priest. As the old wizard reached to catch her, she reacted wildly, pushing him away and sending them both to the floor. As she stood up, a glint of light caught her eye. As the old man stumbled backward, he struck the table, toppling his stack of books. From its spot on top of them, the bundle of cloth had fallen to ground, causing one of the corners to unfold and reveal a single gleaming facet of the dark Jewel within. Her eyes locked onto it for only a split second, but the moment seemed to stretch on for minutes. Thoughts of pain and anger began to twist themselves into a desperate plan.

She felt Josef's hand close on her shoulder and heard his voice speaking to her, but her mind paid no attention to the words. She was waiting only for the contact —just the slightest reason to jump to action. With a single convulsive motion, she twisted away, throwing herself to the floor again, though this time her fall wasn't so random. Feeling the brittle edges of ancient, crumpled parchment against her arms, her hands quickly searched for their target. A second later, she found it: a long bundle of rough fabric. Fumbling with it quickly, she felt razor sharp edges brush against her palms. She nimbly pulled both shards of the Jewel from their protective cocoon and slipped them into her pocket. Fending off another attempt to help her to her feet, Ginny folded the cloth into a large ball again and left it near the books.

Once she was back on her feet, Ginny looked around the small chamber. Everyone was looking at her, but their expressions were ones of pity and sadness, not accusation or shock. Her heart was racing. Had none of them seen what she'd done? Josef was speaking to her again, but she still wasn't listening. Her eyes were locked on the corridor.

"Ginny?" Josef called out. "Ginny, just relax for a minute and think, alright?"

"No," she replied, inching toward the doorway. "I'm going back for him."

Ron limped forward to stop her, but Hermione quickly reached out to grab him and hold him back. In the instant Ginny was distracted, Josef had pulled his wand. Before he could cast a spell, she lunged toward him, throwing her shoulder into his stomach. He bent over and stumbled as she recovered and shoved him out of her path. Off balance and taken off guard, he fell forward. He struck the ground and lost the grip on his wand, sending it skidding across the floor to the old man's feet.

"Don't let her leave," Josef commanded, looking at the old man. "You know what is at stake. Don't let her destroy everything you've worked for. You have to stop her."

The Priest simply watched Ginny step closer to the door. "I will not," he said in a firm tone. "We cannot control our fates. It is not my duty to try and change hers."

Encouraged by the man's passive response, Ginny's pace quickened and after she managed to step through the doorway, she turned back one last time to look at the others. Ron was still being held back by Hermione, though it was hard to tell by his expression whether he was worried that Ginny was leaving or sad that he wasn't following her. Josef was visibly upset and he was already scrambling across the room to recover his wand.

Ginny began running down the corridor as quickly as she could. As she ran, her hand slipped into her pocket to ensure that the two shards of the Jewel were still there. Feeling their cold edges against her skin, she hesitated, trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. What if Josef was right? If Harry was already gone, what could she hope to accomplish? She already had an answer to that question, but it wasn't easy to accept. Had it finally come to that? Was she really no different from Evelyn in the end? _No,_ a voice inside her replied, _she wasn't giving up. She was accepting her fate._

"Ginny, stop," a voice commanded from the direction of the antechamber.

She had waited too long. Josef had caught up to her and he had his wand pointed directly at her, as if he were preparing to hex her. "I'm going back to Harry," she announced in a wavering voice.

"I can't let you do that, Ginny," he said softly. "There have been plenty of sacrifices already. One more isn't going to make things any better."

"You don't know that," she replied. "You've heard him say it before. From the very start, he's always wanted me."

"And you think that if you give him what he wants, he won't destroy the world like he's promised?"

"It's our only chance," she told him. "That chamber won't hold him forever. He'll escape sooner or later, just like he did before."

Josef inched closer to her. "That might take thousands of years."

"And what does that matter?" she replied. "Do you think they'll be able to stop him in a thousand years?"

"Maybe they will," he countered. "We don't know what might happen in the future. We can't fight every battle there might ever be, Ginny. We can only do our part. There will always be great witches and wizards. If he ever escapes from the chamber, I'm sure there will be someone to stop him."

Ginny reached into her pocket to clutch the Jewel. "What if that person is _me?_" she asked. "What if I'm the one who can stop him and I don't even try? I might be the one responsible for destroying the world. Is my life not worth that? How could I live with that? How could you? Are you willing to risk that?"

Josef replied without hesitation: "Yes."

"I wish I had your confidence," she said, her voice heavy with sadness. She blinked slowly as she looked at him. "It's just not worth it to me, Josef. I didn't think I'd have to explain it to you. I just know that I'm the one who can do this. If it's possible, I have to try. If I don't, then I've condemned Harry to thousands of years of torture. What other choice do I have?"

"Come back with me," he answered immediately, lowering his wand for the first time. "Leave this place. Live your life. Be happy. Don't let Harry's sacrifice be in vain."

"I love him," declared Ginny. "It took me too long to admit that. I lost him once. I can't lose him again."

"You can," Josef said. "You're stronger than that, Ginny. This doesn't have to be the end of your life. You can find someone else to love. He's not the only one who cares about you."

"No," whispered Ginny. "No, Harry's the only—"

"I love you," Josef declared in a clear voice. "I didn't— Until this year, I never really knew what love was. My parents certainly never taught me. But when I saw you at that train station in London, I— There was something about you that I'd never seen before. You were so sad, but when your friends called out to you, you smiled and for the first time, I felt _happy_. From that day, everything I've done, I did to try and keep you safe. Like you, it took me a long time to realize that I was in love and I don't want to lose that either."

"No," Ginny said weakly, shaking her head as tears ran down her cheeks. "No, no, no. I can't deal with this, not now. I'm sorry, Josef. I have to help Harry before it's too late. We can talk about this later."

"No, we need to talk about it now, Ginny, before you make a big mistake," Josef continued. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. This was never my plan, but this is how things have turned out and throwing your life away isn't going to help either of us. This is Harry's fate. He understood that. I think he finally realized that you were never meant for each other."

"No, that's not true. He loved me," she cried.

"Did he?" he challenged her. "Did Harry truly love you? Could you ever really know what drew him to you? He was drawn to you, that much was true, but was it really love? From the moment he first defeated Voldemort, he was poisoned by evil. It has controlled him and shaped him since that night. You heard the Priest. He has been holding a piece of the cloaked wizard for almost twenty years. It's impossible to separate one from the other. They are the same being now. That was Harry's fate. I knew it from the day I met him."

"I don't believe that," Ginny replied. "Harry fought Voldemort for years. If this was his fate, then why didn't it end seven years ago in the Chamber of Secrets? That would have been the perfect time, wouldn't it? Harry fought him then, he fought him again in Little Hangleton, and in the Ministry and at Hogwarts and he always won. I know he's fighting him right now and if there's a chance to save him, I have to try."

Josef raised his wand. "I can't let you do that, Ginny," he warned her. "If you go to him, it will be the death of us all. I don't want to hex you, but I will. I won't let you risk everything I've fought for."

Ginny stared back at him. "Would you rather risk the future of the entire world? What if it's true and I'm the only one who can fix this? You're risking the lives of every future generation of wizards for a few hundred years of safety."

Josef's expression was hard and cold. "That's a price I'm willing to pay. I've sacrificed more than my share already. Let someone else finish my work." He let out a short sigh and aimed his wand. "Please, Ginny. Come back with me. Don't make me do this. I'm tired of attacking the people I care about."

With her eyes still locked on his, she took a step back and watched the muscles in his arm stiffen in preparation. She couldn't leave Harry and couldn't stop Josef. She couldn't win. It was all pointless and yet, she refused to give up. Harry always fought and if she had to fail, then she wanted to do it on her own terms. Josef had always been a good friend to her. He had always protected her. If he truly did care about her, then perhaps he wouldn't have the heart to attack her now.

Ginny took another step away from him. A momentary grimace flashed across Josef's face and his arm coiled to fire off a hex.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Just as Josef began flicking his wand at Ginny, it leaped from his hand, leaving him unarmed and totally surprised. He and Ginny both shifted to look back down the corridor leading back to the antechamber and found Hermione standing there, her wand drawn and ready with a look of stoic resolve on her face. With a growl of frustration, Josef strode toward her and his wand which lay at her feet. A second later, Hermione's wand flashed again.

"_Locomotor Mortis!_" she shouted.

Josef's legs froze instantly, leaving him in a precarious pose, stuck halfway between Ginny and Hermione and several feet from his wand. He glared at Hermione in helpless anger, then turned back to Ginny with a pleading expression.

"Don't do it, Ginny," he begged her. "You're all that I have left."

"No, I'm not," she replied softly. "Leave this place. Live your life. Be happy. I'm sure you'll find someone else to love. I have to do this for Harry and for you and for every witch and wizard the cloaked wizard has ever touched." She took another step away and watched for Hermione's reaction. Her friend lowered her wand slowly and nodded in grim acceptance.

Turning quickly, Ginny began running down the corridor toward the chamber. She had wasted far too much time already. Perhaps Josef was right and it was already too late. As she spotted the doors at the end of the last stretch of corridor, she forced herself to accept that it no longer mattered. If she was too late, then there was nothing anyone could do. She grabbed a torch from the wall and increased her pace.

* * *

Harry felt himself awake suddenly. Though he knew he was conscious, the disorientation he felt was almost suffocating and he could barely see. Stumbling about nearly blind, he managed to find the floor and then his balance. Slowly the shapes around him began to become a little sharper. He was in a decently sized room. There were two darker patches which looked like doors and the walls seemed to curve around him.

His mind desperately searched for some explanation for this. Deep within his thoughts, he knew he had the answers, but no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't come to the surface. Walking slowly and carefully toward the nearest wall, he spotted something that he instinctually recognized as important. It was a large circle carved into the stone wall and intersected by three other lines. Two of them were short and the one at the very bottom was lengthened to reach down toward a set of other carvings. He found four figures, shaped like people in various poses surrounded by a large snake biting its own tail. Slowly, he reached out toward the bottom-most carving. Its graceful, delicate lines had been painted a pure white and ringed in a crimson halo. His fingers brushed up against the carving and he felt an image flash before his eyes: A beautiful young woman, crying and screaming, her bright red hair glowing with fiery light.

Pain shot down his arm and he jerked his hand back quickly, but the burning, ripping sensation was slow to fade. Grasping his left arm, he backed away from the wall, hoping that might lessen the pain. His foot struck something heavy and he spun around quickly, trying to keep his feet. Lying on the floor was a large chunk of metal, its circular surface polished to a perfect shine. Immediately beyond it was a large floating sphere of black emptiness. The sight of it chilled Harry's blood. Looking into it was like staring into death itself.

His stomach turned and he doubled over with the intense sensations which coursed through him. His arm throbbed as the pain grew. Stumbling away from the dark sphere, he made his way toward the closest doorway. The door was closed and sealed so completely that he couldn't even make out the doors. Stepping back, he began searching for some way to open it and came to an abrupt stop. Stretched across the wall on the far side of the doorway was the portrait of a young woman.

It was _her_. It was the woman who he'd seen just moments before. Opposing emotions flooded through his body: joy and fury, wrath and relief. As the storm raged inside him, he could do nothing but stare up into her eyes. Who was she? Why was she there? It felt as if he already knew the answers, but they always seemed just out of reach. In their place, new questions rose to the surface. Where was he? How did he get there? _Who was he?_

A deep grinding noise interrupted his efforts. It wasn't until he noticed the flickering light entering the room that he realized the sound had come from the nearby door. A figure was standing there, holding a flaming torch in one hand. He squinted into the light and saw the face of a young woman glaring at him. Her hair was bright red and her eyes were focused on him with a piercing gaze.

It was her. It was the Angel.

The pain in his arm intensified, but he found that he could no longer move. A hot wind had surrounded him. It seemed to be everywhere, blowing in every direction yet never touching him. The young woman took a step toward him and a dark tide rose up to swallow him. The world swirled away and Harry felt himself fall away into darkness.

* * *

"Harry?" Ginny asked as she took another hesitant step into the chamber. He was standing just a short distance away, but he still hadn't said anything to her. He was just standing there, staring at her, his green eyes flickering in time with the flames of her torch.

She paused again, waiting for a response. As the silence stretched on, her thoughts returned to the doorway behind her and the black stone talisman which lay on the sandy floor just outside it. The door was still partially open and she knew it was her only possible escape route. Harry still hadn't responded and Ginny felt her hope beginning to drain away. Was Harry fighting? Was it even possible? Her eyes drifted off to the center of the room and she saw that the golden ring which had been hovering around the dark sphere was broken and scattered across the floor. Harry _had_ fought. The only question left was just how much of him remained. Ginny's attention returned to the door. She hadn't come with the intention to run away. There was no reason to waste time entertaining such thoughts now that she had arrived. If she failed, none of it would matter. Nothing would save her or any of her friends.

"Why have you returned?" Harry asked, though it was not truly Harry.

Ginny's heart felt like it would explode if it beat any faster. She forced herself to take another step toward Harry. "I've come to give you what you wanted."

A curious smile spread across his face. "This is... unexpected," he said. "I must say that I am a little disappointed. You never were the sort to give up so easily. What was the point of all of it, then? All those lives ended, and yet here you are, surrendering yourself to me."

"Not me," Ginny said firmly, "the Jewel of Darkness." She held up her other hand, and in it were the two shards of the Jewel, held together by her tight grip so that they formed a single, long, crystal. "You promised me long ago that if you were given the Jewel, you would spare Harry's life."

The smile on his face widened. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I did."

"I have the Jewel," she announced. "I'll give it to you if you let Harry go."

"That was not the agreement," he replied smoothly. "I only promised Harry's life. I can no more let him go than you could carve out your own heart. I _am_ Harry." he said with a hissing laugh.

The sound of his laughter sickened Ginny. "Then you'll never have the Jewel," she spat as she hid it behind her back and glared at the thing that wasn't Harry.

This made him laugh even more. "Is that supposed to upset me?" he asked. "The Jewel is broken and powerless. It was never what I truly wanted. It was simply a means to an end. My interest has always been in _you_, not the Jewel."

"I'm here for Harry," Ginny said, "not you. Those are the terms of the agreement."

"Then I reject your terms," the wizard replied without hesitation, "though, perhaps, another agreement could be made. What else would you give for Harry's life?"

"I only have the Jewel," Ginny replied defiantly. "That's all I'll give you."

His eyes began to glow a little brighter. "Would you give you life for him?"

Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but stopped herself when she realized what the answer was. The wizard in front of her smiled at her as if he'd heard her thoughts.

"What if you did not have to make the choice?" he asked. "You could have both of them, your life and your love. You could even keep the Jewel. Consider it... a souvenir, if you like."

Ginny's throat was dry and she struggled to swallow. "And just... what would I have to do?"

"Nothing," he answered lightly. "Nothing at all."

"You're lying."

"What purpose would that serve?" he replied. "Think about it, Ginny. No more sacrifices. Everyone could get what they want. You will have Harry. Harry will have his life. You will be as rich and powerful as you like."

"Why should I believe you?" she asked. "After all the threats, all the people you've killed, the countless lives you've destroyed—"

"—But not yours," he interrupted. "I have never hurt you. Any pain you suffered was caused by you or your friends, never me. I was the one who protected you."

"Is that what you want me to think you're doing now?" she said, raising her voice. "You offer me Harry's life and my own, and ask for nothing in return. But that's now how it works, is it? There's always something. Do you think I would blindly accept? Did you think I had forgotten what you did to Mira? Or Valencia? Or Hermione? So what is it? What's the price? What do you get?"

"An end," he snarled back at her. "You can't imagine the pain I've endured. There is nothing I wouldn't give to free myself of it, but all you have to do to free me from it is simply walk away."

"And Harry?"

"He will go with you," he said, though his tone was suddenly more cautious. There was something he was trying to avoid telling her. "Tell the world whatever you like," he continued. "Tell them that I am still locked in this chamber. Tell them Harry defeated me. Or tell them that you defeated me all by yourself. It matters little to me and I doubt you desire the fame such a statement would give you. All you want is Harry and that is precisely what I am offering you."

His tone had caught her attention and she began to understand. "I'll have Harry, but it won't be really be him, will it?" she asked. "It'll be you."

"Harry and I are the same now," he answered. "I already told you that. We cannot be separated, but he is still here. It was necessary, I am afraid. In the past you have been rather uncooperative. I was not willing to risk that happening again."

"And if I refuse," she began, "then you'll kill Harry."

"If you do, then Harry will suffer the same fate that I do."

Ginny's eyes dropped to the floor of the chamber. "I suppose I have no choice then, do I?"

He stepped closer to her, with a caring expression. "You will be happy, I promise you. You can live without pain or fear or sadness. It can all be yours. All you have to do is accept it." The light in his eyes faded until they were the same emerald eyes she had loved for so many years. "Will you do it?" he asked softly. "Will you leave with me?" With one arm he reached up to caress her cheek. His touch was warm and gentle and she couldn't stop the wave of pleasure that ran though her at the sensation.

She took a deep breath and looked into those familiar eyes. "I do love you, Harry," she said, "and I'll miss you."

With every last ounce of her strength, she swung her arm out from behind her back. Her eyes caught a brief flash of light as the torch light glinted off the Jewel before the needle-sharp tip plunged into Harry's chest.

A horrible roar filled Ginny's ears and she felt something heavy slam into her chest and she stumbled backward. In the light from her torch, she could see him staring back at her with an enraged expression. The Jewel, still embedded in his chest, was glowing with a faint greenish light. Somehow, it the two pieces had remained together and as she watched she started to understand why. The crack between the shards was glowing brighter, filling the room with an eerie light. Growling in pain, he looked down at the Jewel and reached for it as if he were going to pull it free. With a sharp howl, his hand jerked away in agony the instant it touched the Jewel.

He recovered quickly and looked up at Ginny. His eyes had changed from bright green to inky black and he began snarling at her as he advanced on her slowly, Ginny took a step backwards toward the door and he let out a fierce roar, expelling a plume of oily smoke from his mouth. She stared into his empty eyes and felt herself trembling. It wasn't Harry. It was something else. She looked down at its chest. The Jewel was glowing a little brighter than before. Something was happening.

The attack came before she had any time to think. He leaped at her, throwing her against the wall behind her. His mouth opened, exposing a row of black fangs and filling the air around her with a dark, sour vapor. One hand pressed against her chest, pinning her to the wall, while the other reached out to grip her jaw and push it to one side, exposing her neck. Ginny struck blindly at him, but she could feel herself weakening. Her vision was starting to fade. An intolerable heat was building on her neck. She felt his fangs brushing against her skin, and then, in her desperation, her hand bumped into something sharp and wet: _The Jewel_.

He, too, knew what she'd found and he recoiled enough for her to see into his eyes again. He was afraid. She knew it was her last chance. Bracing herself, she reached under his arms and wrapped both hands around the sharp crystal. She had expected it to hurt her as much as it had hurt him, but to her, it was merely uncomfortably hot. Pushing forward with all her strength, she drove the Jewel deeper into his chest. He let out a deafening roar and backed away from her, but she pressed forward, continuing to put all her weight on the Jewel. He retreated toward the center of the room but she kept her hands locked on the Jewel. As they stumbled closer to the large black sphere, it seemed to pulse and grow. For a moment, she feared that he meant to throw her into it. She pulled back a little, preparing for his treachery.

The attack never came. Instead, Ginny's reaction seemed to make him aware of just how close the sphere was. He struggled to halt their progress, then spun violently in an attempt to break free. Ginny clutched at his robes and took the opportunity to drive her knee into one of his, knocking him off balance immediately.

The two of them fell to the ground, but Ginny refused to let go. Screaming with all her pain and anger and sorrow, she put all her weight onto his chest and drove the Jewel even deeper. Again and again, she twisted the Jewel until it wouldn't go any further. Finally spent, she tumbled to the ground, putting Harry between her and the black sphere. Less than half the Jewel was still visible. It was still glowing but the light inside it was darkening quickly. The other half was buried deep in his chest. His body had stopped moving some time ago.

She was shaking with fear. Her whole body trembled and she was having trouble breathing deeply. When she looked down to figure out why her hands were cold, she found them covered in a thick liquid. Most of it was viscous and dark, but some of it, especially the smears which covered her forearms, was beginning to fade to a bright red color that she knew all too well. It was blood —Harry's blood. Crawling forward, she looked down at the body and found it staring up at her with vibrant green eyes —Harry's eyes, without any of the cloaked wizard's malevolence. She felt a moment of hope, but as she stared into them, there was no response. They remained completely still as though locked on the ceiling above her.

Ginny collapsed backward and stared at the body in numbed shock. His chest was still moving, as he was breathing, but it seemed that each breath took a little longer than the one before. For what felt like an eternity, she simply laid there, staring at Harry's body and the black Jewel embedded in it.

The sound of footsteps woke her from her mourning and she turned toward the door to find Ron hobbling into the room with one leg wrapped tightly in bandages. Behind him was Hermione and the old man. As they jumped into the room, she saw Josef step into the doorway. He looked at her, then at Harry's body. When he turned back to her, his face was filled with sorrow and sympathy.

"It wasn't him anymore," she whispered.

Ron kneeled down next to her gingerly, reaching out to see if she was alright. Most of the blood on her hands was fully red now and she tried not to think of what she'd just done. Josef noticed her looking at her hands and quickly cleaned them as he asked her what had happened and whether she'd been hurt. After checking her cloak for damage, Ron struggled to stand up again and turned to look at Harry.

"The Jewel mended itself, I see," the old man commented as he stood against the wall, looking at Harry's body. "I wonder if it was made to do just that."

From his spot at Ginny's side, Josef threw a sharp glance at him. "Does it really matter?" he asked. "It's over. We've had enough of your games. Take your Jewel and do whatever you like."

"I cannot," the old man replied, "and I'm afraid it's not over just yet."

"It's over for us," Josef shot back, but the old man just shook his head.

"I wish that were true. You see, the Jewel is not a weapon, it is only a cage. So long as it exists, so does the cloaked wizard. Ffor now, it is binding all of his power, but he is not helpless," explained the old man. "This is exactly how the ancient wizards hoped to transport him back here. They didn't know that it was imperfect. It was a matter of days before they were turning on each other. Above all, it is raw power, but it promises the ability to accomplish all things and satisfy every desire."

Ron's lips curled into a disgusted grimace. "Then we should destroy it," he said, but before he could get one inch closer to the Jewel, Hermione's voice cut through the chamber.

"Ron, no!" she shouted. "Stay away from it! Don't touch it!"

This caught everyone's attention and they found Hermione sitting against the wall near the door, crying uncontrollably and pleading with Ron to back away. Josef and Ginny were confused, but the old man was quick to explain.

"She's quite right, Ron," he said. "It is dangerous to touch the Jewel in this state."

"What would happen?"

"No one really knows," the old man admitted. "It was said that everyone who handled the Jewel died a painful before they were able to describe it."

"So no one can touch it?" asked Josef. "How are we supposed to get rid of it? Do we destroy the body, too?" The old man didn't answer and seemed to be momentarily lost in thought. Josef became impatient and removed his cloak with a flourish. Wrapping it around one of his hands, he approached Harry's body.

"I was wrong," the old man announced suddenly. "Not everyone who touched it has died. There is one person who has survived, isn't there, Ginny?" In an instant, Ginny found the three wizards staring at her. Hermione had been looking at her just a few seconds before, but now she had collapsed again, covering her head and muffling her sobs against her knees. The old man looked at her expectantly. "You put the Jewel there, didn't you, Ginny?" he prompted. "You held it and it didn't hurt you."

"No, it didn't," she answered weakly.

"Then you should be able to remove it," he said, stepping back to clear the path between her and Harry.

Ginny stared at Harry and wondered if she'd be able to do it. Just the sight of what she'd done was enough to make her feel like she was going to be sick. She didn't know if she could stand to actually touch the Jewel again. Silence filled the room as everyone waited to see how she would respond. Slowly, she began to remember why she'd come back to the chamber. She returned to end it, no matter what it cost. Holding her breath, she walked forward and kneeled down next to Harry.

The old man followed her and took a position at her side. Before she could reach out toward the Jewel, he leaned forward to put his hands on Harry's shoulders. With Ginny watching him in confusion, he leaned forward and began whispering in Harry's ear.

"I know you can still hear me, Harry. Your friends are here. If you care about them —if you care about everything they care about— then you must do one last thing: Hold on to your memories, Harry," he pleaded. "Think about how you got here, every mystery you solved, every secret you uncovered, every place you've gone and how you got there. Focus on them. Hold them as close as you can. And most of all, Harry, concentrate on your memories of how you got here. Do not let him have them. Ginny's life depends upon it." When he was finished, he leaned back and gave Ginny a quick nod.

She took deep breath and wrapped one hand around the Jewel and found it so hot that it felt as if it were searing her skin. She jerked away, gasping in pain, but when she looked down at her hand, her palm was pale and clean without any marks at all. Reaching out again, gripping the Jewel and feeling the intense heat radiating from it. The sensation was distracting and troubling, but she managed to push it out of her mind. It wasn't hurting her. It was just another trick to keep her from destroying the cloaked wizard.

She tried to pull the Jewel free, but it was buried too deep. Reluctantly, she leaned forward, pushing against Harry's chest while she tugged again. The Jewel lurched slightly, inching out of the wound slightly. A trickle of blood followed it. Ginny felt ill and prepared for one last pull, when she felt something on her other hand. It had been faint, but noticeable. She waited in silent anticipation. It happened again. Ginny opened her mouth to scream, but her throat tightened, choking her.

"Ha— It's a... heartbeat," she gasped. "He's still alive!"

Wasting no more time, she braced herself against the floor and pulled on the Jewel with all her might. It finally slipped free, sending Ginny tumbling backward onto the sandy floor. The moment the Jewel was removed, Harry's body trembled and his back arched as he took in a long, rattling breath.

Ginny could barely believe what she was seeing. All the time he'd been lying there, he had been alive, waiting for her to free him. Casting aside the Jewel, she crawled back to Harry's side and found him blinking his eyes in the flickering light as his arms flailed across the floor. He took another gasping breath and paused to speak a single word:

"Ginny..."

Ron rushed forward, leaving Hermione to sob against the wall. The old man joined him, kneeling down next to Ginny and looking gravely at Harry's injury.

Josef hovered nearby, watching the scene in disbelief. "It's impossible," he whispered. "How can he—"

Harry's arm reached out to grab Ginny's wrist, but his hand slipped away. When he tried again, he could barely lift his arm. Ginny could see that he was weakening. He opened his mouth to talk, coughed up a mouthful of blood instead. Gasping again, he finally managed to speak.

"I'm... sorry. I never meant..."

"I know, Harry. It's going to be alright," Ginny told him. "We'll get you out of here. Just don't give up."

"This is wrong, Ginny," Josef said. "It's not natural. He died. He died for a reason. If he's still alive it means that _it_ might be alive, too. We can't risk that. I know you loved him, he needs to be—"

"He needs help!" Ginny cried as she stared down at Harry's chest. Without the Jewel in it, the last of his blood was quickly flowing out of his body. Harry's glassy eyes stared up at her, looking just as surprised as everyone huddled around him. "Please, someone, do something," she begged. "I don't have my wand. We need to get him back to the camp."

Ron looked at her with a grave expression. "Ginny, he's not going to make it back to the camp."

"He will if we treat the worst of it right now," she replied in a desperate voice.

Ron shrugged. "We couldn't even mend my leg," he replied. "What do you think we can do to help him?"

"We can _try!_" she cried. "You might not be able to, but _he_ can," she added, pointing toward the old man.

"No, Ginny, I cannot," he replied flatly.

Glaring bitterly, she pleaded with him. "You saved Evelyn and she still threw her life away. Harry's fighting. Why won't you even try to save him? Is his life worth so much less than hers?"

The old man shook his head sadly. "That's not it at all, Ginny. This is the way it was meant to be. There is no point in trying to change fate."

"No," she spat back at him. "I've had enough prophecies for a lifetime. This only happened because you made it happen. You _chose_ this path for him and he followed it because he thought he was making the world a better place. He did, and all I'm asking now is that you try to let him live in the world he protected." She spun around and found Hermione. "You can't believe in any of this," she said. "Harry saved your life. Please, Hermione— Please do something."

Tears streamed down Hermione's face and she couldn't even raise her head to look at Ginny's face. "I— I know how much you love him, Ginny, but I— I can't."

"You can't even try?"

Hermione shook her head as her whole body shook. "You can't understand what— what you're asking," she sobbed. "Please, Ginny— please forgive me. I can't. Ron can't. No one can. It's too important."

"_Then I'll do it!_" Ginny screamed, lunging toward Ron in an unsuccessful attempt to take his wand.

"This cannot be fixed with a wand, Ginny," the old man said in a stern voice. "This is an injury beyond the skill of any Healer. Hermione is right. You cannot heal him. No one can heal him."

"I can."

Ginny turned around and found Josef standing over Harry. There was something odd about his voice. It sounded more confident and forceful. There was an unnatural power to it. As she began walking back toward him and Harry, he looked up at her.

"What is Harry's life worth?"

Ginny didn't know just what had prompted the question, but she answered without thinking: "Anything. There's nothing I wouldn't give for Harry."

Josef responded by extending his right hand toward Harry. Ginny watched in confusion as it began to glow with faint green light. Below it, Harry's blood changed color from deep red to black. Ginny's first instinct was to cry out, but she stopped suddenly when she noticed that the wound was starting to close up. The skin around the deep puncture began to mend and the bleeding stopped completely. Harry's chest began rising and falling again, though the rhythm was still erratic.

"But how—" she gasped. Looking up at Josef again, she noticed that his left arm was held stiffly at his side and clenched tightly in his fist was the Jewel of Darkness.

"Josef, what are you doing?" she asked. "The Jewel, you can't—"

"I am giving you what you want," he interrupted. "You want Harry to live and this is the only way that can happen." Even as he spoke, he withdrew his hand and Harry's miraculous healing came to an abrupt halt. His body shuddered and his arms flailed as he began bleeding once again.

"Why— why did you stop?" Ginny asked.

"You said that you would give anything for Harry's life. You've seen that I can give it back to him, but all things have a price." He held up his left hand, showing her the Jewel wrapped inside it and a dozens veins of black corruption slowly crawling past his wrist. "I cannot stop it. Soon, I will lose control of the power I have taken."

"Then finish healing him now," Ginny demanded.

"And what will happen then, I wonder? Why should I give my life for his?" he asked in a low voice. "He has everything he wanted: fame, fortune, friends, family —more than one. For all the bad fortune they claimed he suffered, I couldn't help but wish that my life had been more like his. Now you're asking me to give him even more. Why him? Why does he get everything that I am denied? Is this some sort of punishment for what I've done?"

Ginny could barely take her eyes off Harry as he struggled to cling to the last threads of life, but something in Josef's voice caught her attention. "What did you do, Josef?" she asked.

"When I was young, all I wanted was the chance to find my own happiness. My parents had other plans for me. They wanted me to turn into them... to become a dark wizard. When the Brotherhood came, I only wanted to escape. I didn't want them to kill my parents, but... when it happened, I didn't feel sad."

"Josef, you already told me about this," she replied. "It's not—"

"Don't you see?" he whispered. "It's the same thing over and over. All I wanted was happiness, but every time I got close, things only got worse. The Brotherhood was no different than my parents, and there was no way out. I found a way out, but I had to destroy them all to do it. Every dream I had was being shattered, one by one. There was only one left," he said, looking longingly at Ginny. "I thought it might finally end. I thought I could save us all and finally be happy. I thought I was doing the right thing. It seemed like it was the only way. After all he'd been given, it was time for him to make the final sacrifice. I didn't expect Harry to understand. It was supposed to end. I was supposed to be happy."

Ginny stared at him in horror. "You left him here as— as some sort of bait? And then when I tried to come back for him, you—" Ginny's jaw dropped. "You weren't try to save us. You were trying to get rid of him."

"I did it to save you, to keep you from becoming that," he growled, pointing behind him at the portrait on the wall. "All I want is to be happy and all I need for that is to have you. I'll heal him if you'll leave with me. Despite everything I've done, I've never hurt you and I've never stopped loving you. I can understand if you don't love me now. It will take some time, but we have plenty of that."

"This isn't you, Josef. Don't let it control you," she pleaded as the first tears rolled down her face. "You can still fight it."

"I don't want to," he declared confidently. "I have willingly chosen this path. There is no fighting it. You are the only one who can control it. If you refuse me now, it will consume me and in time, it will return to kill you and Harry. Your choice is simple: agree to leave with me, or condemn Harry and everyone you know to death."

Ginny tried to steady her breathing. "That's not much of a choice."

"Is it really so horrible a future? I love you and I know you can love me," he announced forcefully. "We will have no need for gold. We can live wherever we want, however we like, for as long as we desire. There is nothing I cannot give you."

Between her and Josef, Harry's movements were slowing again.

"If I agree," she began, "you won't hurt him? You will promise to heal him and never attack him again?"

Josef's eyes flickered with green light. "I give you my word. His death would bring me no happiness. You are the only thing I desire. Will you come with me, then?"

"As you said, I don't really have a choice."

"Swear it to me. Promise yourself to me and only me."

"If that is what it takes to save Harry's life..." Trembling with fear, she stood up and stepped over Harry's body. Behind her, Ron was calling out to her, begging her not to do it.

"This isn't what Harry would want," he said.

Ginny paused to look at him. "He'll die if I don't," she said. "We'll all die. He wouldn't want that either. What other choice do I have?" Behind Ron, Hermione was staring back at Ginny with a knowing look. She said nothing at all, but nodded slowly. Somehow, she had known exactly what was going to happen. Perhaps she had known what Ginny had to do. All Ginny could do was hope that she and Harry would forgive her.

She turned around and found Josef watching her with frighteningly intensity. Ginny felt numb. She took one last breath and began walking toward him. His eyes flared hungrily as she approached and he smiled as she came to a stop just inches away from him and reached out toward his arm just above his elbow, where the dark curse was still spreading.

"You agree, then?" he hissed. "You will give yourself to me in exchange for Harry's life?"

Ginny didn't answer. She couldn't. Her throat had tightened so much that she could barely believe. In her mind, she kept trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. Gathering all of her strength, she looked up into Josef's eyes. Carefully, she reached out to him, placing one hand on his shoulder, and reaching up to his neck with the other. Josef appeared uncertain for a moment, but it disappeared when she pulled his face down to hers.

Ginny closed her eyes and felt Josef tense up as their lips touched. Ginny pulled him closer and slowly, he began to relax again. Intense sensations began flooding into her. She could feel Josef's fear and desire, but underneath it was a endless, consuming rage. She felt it clouding her mind, but she fought back. She couldn't let it control her —not while she still had one last chance.

Forcing her eyes open, she found Josef engrossed in the kiss. With a quick turn of her wrist, her hand slipped under Josef's jaw and she pushed his head back as fast as she could. Even without his newfound power, her strength was no match for his, but the action was enough to momentarily throw him off balance. With an enraged snarl, he stumbled backward, giving Ginny just the opportunity she had been hoping for.

Her hands locked onto the arm holding the Jewel while she hooked a leg behind one of his knees. Leaning her weight against him, he tripped and began falling backward. Ginny forced his arm away from her, twisting his entire body as he fell.

The black sphere was only inches away and as Ginny pushed his hand closer to it, it swelled until Josef's hand and the Jewel it clutched plunged though the surface and disappeared completely. The sphere crackled with energy and released a blast of hot air that shook the chamber. An inhuman scream broke out of Josef's throat and his entire arm came to an abrupt halt. Ginny's momentum sent her crashing into him and she felt a spike of pain as her jaw struck his arm and bit down hard on her tongue. She felt her body go limp and she tumbled to the ground. When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying beneath the sphere with Josef recovering his balance nearby. His hand was still buried within the sphere and he didn't appear to be able to retrieve it.

"What did you do?" he howled as he tugged at his arm. He was pulling on it with all his might, but he couldn't free himself. The was growing and as it slowly swallowed his forearm, the dark veins which had spread from the Jewel were now racing up his arm at an alarming pace. Josef's eyes widened and he let out a panicked scream as he saw what was happening. After a few more desperate tries to pull himself free of the sphere, he stopped and glared at Ginny with glowing green eyes.

"Why?" he shouted through quickly blackening teeth. "After all I've given you. All I wanted a life with you. Why is that so horrible?"

Ginny's eyes burned as she watched him writhing in pain. "Look at what you've become," she cried. "How could you? You promised me—"

"_I loved you!_" he roared. "I sacrificed everything for you! You said you'd give anything for Harry's life. I did this for you and you betrayed me. I won't face this alone. We _will_ be together." As he shouted this, he lunged at Ginny. She dodged him and tried to run away. After just two steps, she came to a halt as her cloak tightened around her neck and she was jerked backward violently.

Josef was clutching her cloak with his free hand. Ginny tried pulling herself free, but he was far stronger than she was. Slowly, he was dragging her back toward him.

Ron dashed toward her. "_Diffindo!_" he shouted, aiming his wand at the clasp which tied to cloak around Ginny's neck. She saw a flash of light and felt a sensation like something hot and sharp had grazed across her neck. The spell rebounded instantly, leaving a deep cut across Ron's cheek.

He'd forgotten the cloak was charmed, but his attempt had awoken Ginny's mind from its panic. She took one last breath and fought back against the cloak while her hands fumbled with the clasp. Ron, ignoring the blood flowing down his face, returned and added his strength to hers. Within seconds, the force pulling her back disappeared and she felt herself falling forward. She struck the floor and her head rang from the pain.

She felt strong hands pulling her back to her feet and lashed out at them. The more she fought, the more persistent they were. The ringing in her head disappeared beneath a loud roar. She blinked her eyes and saw Ron bent over her, struggling to pull her away from the source of the noise. She wasn't prepared for what she saw when her eyes returned to the center of the chamber.

Josef —or whatever he was becoming— was frantically fighting to free himself. The sphere was still growing and it had engulfed his entire arm now. Meanwhile, the dark veins had spread all throughout his body and he was now staring back at her with eyes that blazed with emerald light.

"I will make you pay for this, you deceitful whore!" he howled, his face disfigured with rage. As he shouted, he spewed thick clouds of inky smoke which were swiftly pulled back into the dark sphere, feeding it and making it expand even faster. A series of sharp snaps echoed through the chamber as the surface of the sphere inched across his ribs. Snarling in pain, he extended his free hand toward Ginny. "You have taken everything from me. You don't know the pain you've caused," he snarled, "but I only need to take one thing from you to make you understand." Only then, as his the green light gathered around his hand, did Ginny realize that it was not focused on her, but on Harry.

She let out a panicked scream and leaped to her feet in an attempt to put herself between Josef and Harry. By the time she had, she noticed that it didn't really matter. Josef's attack was failing. The pulse of green light which extended from his palm was being driven back as if by a strong gale. The sphere was growing at an alarming pace now.

The dark surface had reached Josef's head. He glared malevolently at Ginny and opened his mouth to let out an inhuman roar of hatred and pain. As if to silence him, a strong, swirling wind filled the chamber, pulling sand from the floor and whipping it about, scouring Ginny's skin where it wasn't covered by her nightgown. The wind strengthened quickly, extinguishing the torches and forcing Ginny to cover her eyes.

An instant later, Ginny's ears were filled with an empty silence. She opened her eyes and saw absolutely nothing. For a moment, she wondered what had happened when her eyes were closed. Had the sphere swallowed her as well? Was Josef still nearby? Was she dead? If she was, why was her heart beating so quickly?

"Ginny?" Ron shouted through the darkness.

"I'm here," she answered, "though I'm not really sure where that is."

"You have gone nowhere," a voice announced. A moment later, a bright, clean light sprung out of the black. At its center was the old man. A second light appeared seconds later. This time, it was Ron. Ginny looked about her and found the very same chamber she remembered, though the swirling sand had dulled the paintings on the wall quite a bit. Remembering what had happened, her head spun around to look at the center of the chamber.

There was nothing there. Josef was gone and so was the sphere. The only thing left as proof that she hadn't imagined all of it was the broken remnants of the large golden ring which had once hovered around the sphere. The gateway was gone. She didn't know just what to think about that and other, more important things quickly rushed to the forefront of her mind.

She turned around and saw the faint outline of Harry still lying on the ground. However, to her surprise, she found Hermione rushing to his side. Ginny watched in uncertainty as Hermione leaned over Harry and pressed her hands against his chest. Perhaps the cloaked wizard's attack had kept her from understanding what had happened to Harry. Ginny ignored her own pain for a moment to watch sympathetically as Hermione realized the tragic truth.

"We can still save him," she cried out to Ginny. She pulled a small vial out of her pocket and quickly poured the contents onto Harry's wound. In the dim light, Ginny could see a puff of green smoke rise into the air. Within seconds, Harry's wound started to heal.

"You— you had that this whole time?" Ginny cried. "Why didn't you—"

"I wanted to," Hermione shot back. "Do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch him— I _couldn't_ help him. If I would have... I could have been destroying everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"The cloaked wizard showed her what would happen," the old man said as he joined Hermione by Harry. "She couldn't let herself or anyone else do anything that would stop what she'd seen from happening. If Harry had been saved, then there would have been no reason for Josef to pick up the Jewel."

Ginny watched the old man and Hermione prodding Harry with their wands. "But... why is that bad?" she asked. Spinning around again to look at the center of the chamber, a more important question came to mind: "What happened to him? Where is Josef?"

"He is right here, of course," answered the old man. "The better question is not where he is, but _when_."

"When? You mean he—" Ginny's mind was too confused to even finish the question.

The old man sat up for a moment. "When the ancients created the Jewel of Darkness, they intended to carve out a section of the world and turn it into a prison. However, they failed to comprehend the infinite expanse of time. They clumsily ripped out as much as they could imagine and in doing so, they created the Death Gates and a flawed prison. By replacing the Jewel, you have repaired the damage."

"What about Josef, though?"

Leaving Hermione to work on Harry, the old man stood up and walked toward Ginny. "No one has ever been able to tell exactly what happened to him or just why it happened," he began. "The only thing that we know is that he was thrown back into this cave sometime in the far past. It seems reasonable to assume that he was returned to the point the ancients guessed as the oldest time imaginable. It's impossible to know just when that was, but various clues have led us to believe that it is somewhere on the order of fifteen thousand years ago."

"_Fifteen thousand?_" she choked. "What about the cloaked wizard? Is he with—"

The old man stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "You need to understand what happened here, Ginny. The thing you knew as the cloaked wizard is gone. Your ordeal is over. Josef's, however, has just begun. His pain and hatred will consume him and the dark power he was given will weigh him down. Death will not find him and he will sit here, brooding in this chamber until nature, in an attempt to balance itself once again, creates the very first wizards."

Ginny gasped in shock. "You mean he— It was always him? It was Josef?" She pulled herself free of the old man's grip, searched the walls of the chamber and found the blurred portrait of the woman. "So, the Angel was—"

"You, Ginny," the old man said. "She was always you. That is why he sought you. That is why he hated Harry and why Voldemort was so focused on him."

Ginny's blood went suddenly cold. What had she done? She looked into the eyes of the woman on the wall and saw herself just as she was today. She remembered talking to Miraphora and seeing the fear and pain in her eyes. That was what she had done to Josef. "What have I done?" she sobbed. "It never ends, does it? It just keeps happening again and again."

"That is the nature of the world, Ginny," said the old man. "It is the cycle of creation and destruction."

Ginny trembled with the horrible knowledge of what she'd done. "He knew it, didn't he? All he wanted was for it to end. That was why he hated me so much. How couldn't he? I'm worse than he is," she whispered. "I've caused so much pain in the world, I just can't—"

"No, Ginny, you saved us," Hermione interrupted. "His anger and hatred sparked the birth of the very first wizards. Without him, you wouldn't be here and neither would I, or Ron, or Harry. If you would have saved him, you would have destroyed the magical world. You had to do it, Ginny," she said in a comforting voice.

While she had no trouble hearing the words, it was much harder for Ginny to accept them. She had despised the Angel for months. She had hated that the cloaked wizard was so convinced that Ginny was the one to blame for his pain. Finding out that it was all true was almost too much for her to bear at once. Was she really a hero? She felt like a monster. Why had she done it? Had it been revenge? Or just hatred for what it made her do to Harry?

Thoughts of Harry broke through her despair and she immediately turned around to look for him. She found him lying in front of Hermione looking deathly pale and motionless. A large rip in his robes exposed his chest, but the wound that had been there before was gone. After a tense moment of waiting, she saw his chest move just slightly. He was breathing. It was shallow, but steady.

"He's— Is he going to—"

Hermione stood up. "He's not doing well, Ginny," she announced, "but he's not bad, either. I've done the best I can. He still needs a Healer, but I think we can move him. There are a few potions we left back at the camp which might help us get him to St. Mungo's."

Ginny felt a flutter of happiness. It did little to remove the guilt which sat upon her, but it was a small ray of hope in the darkness she had been living in for the last year. There was still a chance for happiness. Ron and Hermione pointed their wands at Harry's limp body and carefully raised him into the air. As they began levitating him toward the door, his eyes fluttered open just long enough to glance at Ginny. The three of them passed by, leaving Ginny and the old man alone in the chamber.

Ginny's eyes looked around at the walls one more time. Only now did she recognize the paintings and carvings for what they really were: the last attempts of a deeply troubled wizard to keep a hold on the last of his memories as time and darkness consumed what was left of him. She was overwhelmed with a deep sadness. Did he understand the what the consequences of his actions would be? How much of him was really left by the time his spirit encountered Ginny in the hallway at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? How much had he forgotten?

Her gazed stopped on a small thin object laying near the wall. She stepped toward it and recognized it as Harry's wand. Above it, in a coincidence that Ginny had trouble accepting, she saw the collection of symbols they'd found in the book. It was supposed to be a message. She was certain of it now. But to whom? It seemed simple to say that he left it as a way of reminding himself who had imprisoned him there, but why had he left it? If his only intention had been to stop the cycle, then any number of actions would have been enough. He could have simply killed her in the Chamber of Secrets or killed her parents instead of Harry's.

She walked closer to the wall and kneeled down by the set of four figures. Reaching out, her hand grazed the blackened surface of the figured which had been described as the Demon. "Was it him?" she asked aloud. "Did he hate what he'd become?"

"It is difficult to say," the old man replied. "Who can ever know the thoughts of a man in complete isolation? And yet, I think it is clear that, at some point, he came to understand his purpose. When they found him, he was powerful beyond measure, but not violent by nature."

"Then why is this figure so scarred?"

"Because it represents Harry, and his hatred for Harry never fully cooled," the old man replied. Ginny cocked her head to the side and stared at the carving again. Her hand reached out to point at the one separated from all the rest. The old man shook his head. "No, I think that is me," he offered, "or perhaps Antonin. It doesn't really matter. There is another figure there that you've never considered: the Ouroboros. That is the symbol Josef used to represent himself. It represents eternity and perfection, and life and death. More importantly, it represents the cycle of rebirth and the natural order of the world. I think we can be confident that at some point before Josef was drowned in the weight of his own eternal power, that he understood not only what had happened, but the necessity that it happened again."

Ginny looked at the symbols again. The detail on the giant snake surrounding the lower four figures was more intricate than any of the others. Only the carving of the Angel approached it. She stared at that other figure, the one which was meant to be her. Looking at it now, she couldn't help but believe that it had been left as a hint to her. From across thousands of years, he had been trying to tell her to do what she needed to do.

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder. "Come along, Ginny," the old man said softly. "We should leave now. Harry needs a proper Healer and the help of a respected Ministry official will help us avoid any unnecessary questions."

After picking up Harry's wand, Ginny stood up slowly and walked toward the doorway. As she stepped through, she saw the black stone talisman lying on the floor. The old man paused to watch her as she pushed the door closed and pressed the face of the talisman into the circular indentation. With a faint grinding noise, the crack between the doors sealed. She removed the talisman, calmly slipped the chain around her neck, and walked away from the chamber.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Well, there you are. If any of you are still reading, I'd like to thank you for the persistence needed to read through three long stories. I hope it was enjoyable. Now, I know that there will probably be quite a few people who don't like how this ends. All I can do is tell you that this was how it was supposed to end from the very beginning. The cyclic nature of the story was the primary theme of the story. If you re-read the story, you'll see a number of hints and foreshadowing for this really far back. Most of the important action scenes from this chapter were actually included in various other chapters in the story as things like vision and dreams. I enjoy it, and it all just makes me like Josef as a character even more. However, I understand if others are disappointed.

To answer the most common question: No, I have no plans for sequels to this story or 'Harry Potter and the Book of Magical Maladies'. I don't expect to write any more stories in the Harry Potter universe. If this is disappointing to you, then understand that it's really just because the completion of the canonical story has sort of crystallize the universe and it's harder to make interesting stories from it. I've got no other stories that I'm writing at the moment, but that doesn't mean that you won't see anything in the future.

Now, my work on this story isn't quite complete yet. I'll still be here to answers questions and if there is any interest, I'll be compiling all of the chapters, re-edited, into one single document (PDF and OpenDocument) with hundreds of footnotes to point out various hints, jokes, mistakes, anecdotes and explanations for things that you probably didn't catch the first time around. If you're interested in this, you'll have to send me an email (or PM via the local messaging function here) and I'll send you an email with the location of the file once I've finished it.

Again, thanks to whatever readership I have left. Thanks to all the people who beta'ed for me (there were quite a few) and thank you to everyone who took an active part in the story by asking questions or providing feedback. I hope that I've provided people with some entertainment.


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